


opposites attract, literally

by blue_fairytale



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - FBI, Alternate universe - Mafia, Awesome Rowena MacLeod, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), BAMF Dean Winchester, BAMF Rowena MacLeod, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship, Charlie Bradbury Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, DID I STRESS THE FLUFFINESS ENOUGH?, Dean gets pissed though, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, FBI Agent Castiel, Family Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, I can't believe I was the one that wrote this, Light Angst, M/M, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Minor Injuries, Mob Member Dean Winchester, Nothing serious, Protective Dean Winchester, Romantic Comedy, Samuel is a jerk, What's new, like very light, more Dean overthinking a lot than anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26429929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_fairytale/pseuds/blue_fairytale
Summary: Dean and Cas have been happily married for four years now and everything is good. There's only one problem: Cas is a FBI Agent and Dean is second in line to become the Captain of the mob. What could possibly go wrong, right?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 42
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii, it's me! Again!
> 
> So, I wrote all of this in less then 3 days, witch is a miracle and a personal record, especially considering it's been a very hot minute since I wrote anything that I actually like lol. But I don't know, the entire story just blurted out and I word-vomitted non stop until the very end (yes, ok, I did use this as a coping mechanism to deal with the last day of filming of SPN, who can blame me?).
> 
> Anyway, the idea for this little thing here came from [this prompt](https://i.redd.it/f75zekg1g1p11.png), that a friend sent me and in the matter of ten minutes I had written almost 1k words already lol.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing it and imagining these two working around their jobs, and I hope you guys enjoy it as well.
> 
> This is a short one, only 7 chapters and almost 20k words (a lot more than I expected when I started to write, but okay), it's finished and I'll post on Fridays or Saturdays.
> 
> Also, I don't know much about mob and all this stuff, what I do know and wrote here is roughly based on fanfics I read a while back, so I apologize in advance for some very shitty descriptions - even though I tried to avoid them for that exact reason.
> 
> Anyway, enough of me babbling... I hope you guys enjoy!
> 
> Love, Blue 💙

Castiel hated slow days. It wasn’t that he had nothing to do. On the contrary, there were some reports he could finish, but he didn’t want to. He liked to take care of those at the end of a very agitated day. Days in which the only time he sat at his desk was very early in the morning, enjoying his second cup of coffee – not as good as the one his husband brew – or the very end, after a very long and stressful one, running the entire city after witnesses or criminals.

Slow days brought nothing. He sat at his desk at the usual time and hadn’t got up until his lunch hour, and now he was back at it again. He looked over some evidences of someone else’s case – always good to have a second opinion, his colleague explained – and signed of some reports his team had written regarding the case they closed last week – without his help because it was just so simple nobody bothered to call Castiel for help. Not that he cared. He had trained those people, so he was very proud of them for being able to handle a case without asking for his assistance every five minutes.

Now though, Castiel would die to be called to take care of anything. Even lunch run. Sure, it was way past lunch hour and he didn’t go out for those in more than ten years, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to go out, punch someone, chase a bad guy, question someone, try to make some witness spill truths they try to hide. Any-freaking-thing.

He was considering going down to the gym and find a place to take a nap when he saw people starting to run around. Castiel was about to ask what was going on when his phone buzzed on his desk, showing him a new text message from Balthazar asking his assistance down the interrogation room. About damn time.

Castiel made a show of getting up and stretching his back – he had been sitting down for a very long time – and going to grab a new cup of coffee before going two floors down to meet Balthazar and see what was the fuss about. From the way everyone was acting, it should be something big. He didn’t remember what Balth had been working on, only about being a high profile case and that maybe he would request Castiel’s help sometime in the future.

Maybe now was the time. Castiel and Balthazar had worked together in numerous occasions, and they had good results. Their bosses loved whenever the two of them worked together. Not that it was a competition, but Castiel and Balthazar had the best numbers around the bureau, they weren’t newbies, they knew what they were doing, and they did it good and well.

Balthazar was waiting for him as soon as Castiel stepped out of the elevator, rushing a quick thank you once Cas handed him a cup of coffee. Down there it was even more chaotic than upstairs and Castiel looked around, curiosity clear in his eyes.

“What’s going on?” He asked, walking besides Balthazar towards the interrogation rooms.

“Big bust,” said Balth, looking incredibly proud of himself. “We still have questioning, but if all goes well, this will be the biggest apprehension the bureau has ever seen. Maybe the _country_.”

“That’s good, I’m sure they’ll love it.” Said Castiel, happy for his colleague. “Where do you need me?”

“Big boss… Kinda,” Balthazar grimaced. He stopped and turned to Castiel, looking around before giving him a brief summary of the case. “So, what do you know about the Campbells?”

“Sounds like a lovely family.” He had heard something about it, probably in one of the briefing meetings every month in which they update their most wanted lists.

“Biggest mob in the US. Their leader is Samuel, and the second in line is here now.”

“How do you got the second in line?” Asked Castiel, now understanding the big commotion. “Aren’t they supposed to be super protected and shit?”

“Well, it helps when we ambush them and get the entire team.” Balthazar smile showing how proud he was about his plan working out perfectly. “Anyway, grandson is not a big of a douche as his grandad. More like a hands on deck kinda guy.”

“So he takes one for the team?”

“Seems like it,” Balthazar thought about it. “We’ve been tracking them down for a while now, Samuel’s crew finally starting to make mistakes.”

“I assume he’s not pleased with that.”

“No, there was a massive shooting last week when we tried to intercept their shipment. Words on the street is that Samuel is on the verge of a full on massacre of his own team.”

“Does he blame the second?” Castiel asked. He knew something about the hierarchy at mob families, it was pretty unlikely that the big boss would let so many mistakes happening and the person in charge living for much long.

“Not exactly, I don’t think; word is that he and the kid don’t get along very well, so Samuel tries to avoid putting him to work. He had another guy in charge, weird name I won’t remember now, but I think today was his last day after we got so many of his men.”

That still didn’t make a lot of sense to Castiel, but he knew Balthazar was just trying to give him a brief summary before asking for his help, and Castiel was the one complicating things even more by asking all the questions that could be asked later.

“Ok, anyway, why do you need me?” He asked once more.

“Basic protocol,” Balthazar shrugged. Whenever they have a big bust or interrogation, they are not supposed to do in on their own. More safety issues for both the suspect and the agent than anything else. “But I also think I might need your help to tie all the loose ends after we’re done here.”

“Do you think you’ll get any answers from the guy? He’s the second in line, Balthazar. Even though he and Samuel don’t get along, he’ll still respect hierarchy. And if he’s all hands on deck, taking a bullet for the team like you said, he’ll protect his family and not say a word.”

“I know, that’s why I asked you… You’re the best at getting truth out of people with your puppy eyes turned into a death stare in mere seconds. Most of the cases we closed together was due to your impressive ability to drawn out the truth from suspects. Maybe you can give him a taste of your personal touch.” Balthazar knows that flattery rarely works with Castiel, but he does have a point mixed in with all the compliments.

“Why do you have to make everything sound so dirty?” Castiel asked, rolling his eyes. “Show me the way.”

They walk and pass by a few doors, Castiel can hear people talking inside, probably the rest of Balthazar’s team interrogating the low profile mob members. Their target is at the end of the hall, Balth’s favorite one. Castiel doesn’t even bother to ask Balthazar for the file he has on the guy, he knows how this is gonna go. They’ll walk in, Balthazar will chat with the guy and Cas will watch carefully for every reaction from the guy, studying him before Balthazar gives him the go ahead to take everything else from the poor soul.

It won’t be easy, the guy is second in line to take over the Campbells, Cas already expects he won’t break as easy as Balthazar seems to think. The eldest of the family wouldn’t trust him with such important position if he was weak as everyone else. But that is why Balthazar called him, because Castiel is the best at reading people and making them pour out their confessions.

“Just a warning, he thinks he’s hilarious,” Balthazar tells him as they stop at the door. “Don’t even bother trying to understand all the references he might want to try and throw at you.”

Castiel just nods, he’s more than used to that, being married with a self-proclaimed hilarious guy for almost four years had made him pretty much unfazed by such behavior. Balthazar opens the door and Castiel hangs back a few seconds just to take a deep breath.

“Hello again, Mr. Winchester…“ He hears Balthazar saying and his heart skips a beat. That _can’t be_.

Castiel goes inside the room, closing the door behind him without even paying attention. His blue eyes are fixed on the man sitting by the desk. Broad shoulders, sand-color hair, deep green eyes under the unflattering lights of the room, and a face dusted with freckles Castiel one day traced with his own lips. The man’s eyes go slightly wider – ever so briefly Castiel would be unable to catch that had he not been watching it carefully and waiting for that reaction. Balthazar seems to no realize anything, bless his soul.

A lump form in his throat and Castiel has a hard time swallowing it, his mouth suddenly completely dried. That _can’t be_. That man sitting by the desk, in handcuffs, ready to be questioned about his family’s activities, _can’t be_ Dean Winchester, his very own **_husband_**.

~ * ~

Well, fuck his life.

Dean is having a pretty shitty day. He hates those and, unfortunately, in his line of work, they’re quite common. What makes him hate them even more. Can’t he just have a fucking peaceful day eating pie and watching some stupid cartoon or good old western movie in his bed until his husband comes back from work?

No, he has to deal with his stupid granddad that know shit about running a team to make a stupid shipment. Really, how hard is to train people to shoot other people? To fight for their goddamned produces? They should be fighting with all they have inside of them, it’s were they paycheck comes every other week for Christ’s sake.

He has no idea of when Samuel started to run so bad their team; the man used to rock when Dean was younger and trained by their granddad. Obviously, he hated the guy – still does – but family is family, right? They had lost Sam already; they couldn’t lose him. And Dean kinda liked his job, especially the prospect of one day get to sit on Samuel’s chair and call the shots. Dean already knows things will be different when he finally becomes the boss, but it’s just taking to fucking long.

He thought that Crowley messing up would be the end of Samuel. The Old Men would get mad at their Captain and decide he’s too old already to keep on running the family. But Samuel had made it work somehow and gave Crowley _another_ chance – how many was that again? Dean had lost count already. Truth is, Crowley used to be good – _used_ being the key-word here. But now he’s gone soft, especially after finding out about his long lost son. Family tended to make people grow weaker and Crowley was no exception. Add that to his problems with drugs that went out of hand a couple of months ago and the man was just a mess. But he was Samuel’s favorite, so he got a gazillion second chances.

Samuel had no care in the world about dragging the family name through the mud. But Dean would die before the Campbells lost any respect on the street – sure, one of the first things he would change would be the stupid name. Campbell sounded like a family living the apple pie, white picket fence life. Winchester carried some bigger weight, it was strong and powerful, memorable. He knew the Old Men would approve of that. Not like it was the first time the family would change names. Samuel had caused that when he stepped up, and Dean knew it was a huge mess. He still had no idea of how his granddad was still up and kicking, the Old Men pretty much hated him nowadays.

Dean can only hope now it was the last straw. Because they all got caught! Not surprising him in the least, another one of Crowley’s fancy plans failed and the entire team got caught by the FBI. Not even mall cops, but fucking FBI! The only big rule they have to pay attention and avoid at all costs: FBI. And Crowley manages to fuck everyone’s life. Dean could have run, but he would die before leaving his team behind.

So now there he is. Sitting on a very uncomfortable chair, his writs already hurting from the too tight cuffs, and praying silently for his men to keep their mouth shut until the very expensive team of lawyers on their paycheck gets here to free everybody – him included.

Not that his is not having fun, the guy that caught him apparently is the leader and he has a funny accent – Dean hadn’t decided yet if it was British or French – and he had an answer for every joke Dean threw at him – hey, if Dean is going down, he’s gonna have some fun before the end. Not that it’s on his plans to go to prison, it would be hell to explain that to his husband after four years pretending he had a very boring job as a mechanic. Nothing against that occupation; Dean liked cars, but _that_ job would be very boring for him.

He looks around, having to hand to the guy for not leaving anything behind that could help him get out of the cuffs – not that Dean would bail, he knew it would be worse and his guys wouldn’t shut up if word got out of their boss running away and leaving everybody behind. Rule number two of the family: no man left behind. Should be the first now that Crowley had blown up the first. God, Dean wanted to kill the bastard.

All his life he had been in cuffs once, when he was a teenager and got caught stealing some food for him and Sam. He had spent almost two months at a boy’s home before John decided he had learned his lesson and came to pick him up. After that, as much as he had done many things that would make him go to jail, Dean managed to always escape. It was more about going back to Sam than caring for his own life, but whatever.

At some point he lost track of time. He could hear people talking outside and inside he was just suffering. Would it kill for these high fancy government agencies to pay for some good comfortable furniture? He knew for a fact that treating your suspect well and leaving them comfortable would assure more results than fucking killing their back and butt. Tonight he’s definitely _not_ giving his ass to Cas.

He’s almost falling asleep with his head resting on the table when the door opens and he hears the guy that arrested him walking in. He’s cheerful as ever, more than any suit Dean has ever seen in his life, but everything just vanishes from his surroundings when his partner walks in. Messy dark hair, blue eyes that seem as clear as a lake on summer day even under those shitty lights, stern face – the same one Dean is used to see whenever they’re playing Monopoly – and a body Dean has tasted more times he can count; dry chapped lips that he kissed that very morning, when he said goodbye and wished a good day to his fucking **_husband_**.

Oh, fuck his life indeed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys reflect on their new-found discoveries.  
> So many questions, not enough answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya, lovelies!
> 
> Just wanted to take a moment to thank you for all the kudos and comments, you sure know the way to a girl's heart 💙
> 
> Also, quick disclaimer that I forgot to add on the previous chapter: English is my second language, so I apologize in advance in case you find something a little weird/odd/horrendous, and ask you to tell me what is wrong so I can correct, okay? I triple checked everything, but I know something always escapes our notice.
> 
> Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this one. There is a bit of angst and I found the need to add a little warning on the end notes - it's nothing big, just want to be extra-cautious.

Dean doesn’t say a single word, and the guy – Balthazar, definitely French – tries his hardest to get anything out of him. But it’s not even that Dean just won’t break, he just _can’t think of anything else other than the fact that his husband is a fucking **fed**!_ His husband, Castiel Novak – _almost_ a Winchester if it weren’t for all the innumerous forms he’d have to fill out to change his name, and the fact that Dean didn’t want to put a damn red flag on him because of his family – that told him he had a very boring job at an accountant office is a fucking _FBI agent_.

As much as he tried, Dean couldn’t look at anyone or anything else in that room other than Castiel, and the man seemed to feel the same way. If looks could drill holes in each other skulls, they would be with a crater on their faces. And Balthazar just won’t shut the hell up!

Dean just needs to be alone for five fucking seconds to think this through. Did Cas know about him? Is that why he is here? Was this Castiel’s plan all along? Was he spying on Dean? Was their marriage a façade? Just an elaborate plan to get to their family? Did the agency find out about their relationship and set them up like that stupid – but kinda funny, Dean has to add – movie with Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt? Did Crowley know about that? Was that ambush on purpose? Joint action to catch Dean and Castiel and put them away for sleeping with the enemy?

If Sam were here, he would joke about Dean messing reality with porn once again. But who could blame him, reality is pretty much messed up now.

Balthazar keeps talking – fuck, this guy really likes to hear his own voice – completely unbothered by the staring contest happening between Castiel and Dean.

Dean doesn’t even know what is happening here, if they’re trying to communicate or just secretly hoping the other turns to dust or takes of the mask and reveals to be someone else completely. Dean would prefer that, even after the almost heart attack, he would still rather have someone dressed as Castiel trying to pull a prank on him than it actually being his husband.

Fuck, how did that happen? How could he be so fooled? And it’s not like he could be really mad at Castiel, he isn’t a hypocrite. He had lied too, and he wouldn’t deny that, but man… He had lied to _protect_ Castiel, and all this time not only his husband was very capable of taking care of himself, but he was also his fucking enemy. Ok, maybe enemy _could_ be quite dramatic, but there were no other words. Dean was everything Castiel worked against. Hell, he was there now in that room to try and put Dean behind bars – probably for life.

And as much Dean tried to work in his head how they could fix that – is it broken? Did it need to be fixed? – he couldn’t find an answer. There's no way in fucking hell or heaven Cas, the fed, mister by the book, never forgot to return a book from the freaking library, will be with him after learning Dean is fucking second in line to take over his family legacy.

Dean is _almost_ a mob boss.

Married to a freaking _fed_.

How is that gonna work for fucks sake?

Very slowly, that feeling started to creep in. Dean was so concentrated on Castiel he didn’t feel it until it was too late. He feels like losing control over his thoughts and himself completely, as if he couldn’t breathe. _Great_ , now he would have a freaking panic attack. How pathetic! Castiel seems to realize, because he quickly makes Balthazar stop talking and grabs the keys to free Dean’s hand.

It had been a long time since he had one of those, and Dean freaking hates them. He feels vulnerable, out of control and depending on anything else other than his body and brain to go back to normal. He couldn’t remember Castiel ever witnessing one since they got together. Hell, Dean actually credited Cas for the lack of bad things in his life. Ever since he met the man, no more nightmares, no more panic attacks… Everything was good. And now…

_What now?_

Dean had no fucking clue. Because he knew Cas, he knew he always did everything right, he was the complete opposite of Dean. There was no way Castiel would be with him after today. He would get home and find the divorce papers on top of the dinner table, pen on the side and an address for him to email it back once signed. He was sure of that. They would probably sell the house and each would take half of the money. His car would be his, it was part of the deal and Castiel even added that to their vows, how Baby would always be Dean’s – Dean almost started to cry all over again when he heard that. Or maybe he would have nothing, because he would go to jail. And Castiel would get the house, the furniture, the car and everything else under the sun.

“Dean, breathe with me…” He managed to hear at some point, that voice… Man, did he love that voice, bringing him back, soothing him. Dean didn’t think he deserved to be soothed, but he was selfish and he wasn’t gonna say anything now. Not when Castiel was bringing him back, helping him to take over the functions of his body once again. _Saving_ him, again. “I think we’re done with questioning him for today, Balth.”

Why hearing Castiel calling that French dude by a nickname leave such a sour taste on his mouth? Castiel had never given him any nickname – sure, they had pet names for each other – but no nicknames. He had called him ‘Cas’ from the very first moment, and Castiel had always called him Dean. Sure, his name didn’t give much space for a nickname, but people could get creative, right? Gabriel – their barista at the coffee shop they went for the _day after_ their first night, and proceed to go constantly, causing Gabriel to call himself the cupid/matchmaker and responsible for their union – called him _Deano_ , and his niece called him _uncle Dee_ , and Castiel had heard her calling him that. He had listened to every nickname people had given Dean, but he himself never used any.

“I couldn’t agree more, agent,” Dean heard his lawyer saying and he looked up, since when was he on the floor? Damn, what a mess. He needed to call Sam right away. Sam was one of two people that knew about Dean’s life outside of their family, Samuel couldn’t even dream about the two brothers still keeping touch, or what Dean was up to when he was outside the mansion. “If you have any further questions, feel free to call my office and we will gladly provide any information you need.”

“I’m fine,” Dean grumbled, feeling Cas’ hands trying to help him up. Castiel took a step back, pain flashing in his blue eyes and hands raising in a sign of surrender. Damn it, if he still had any chance of making this right, he had just tossed that out of the window.

Honestly, Dean couldn’t care less about that now. He wanted to run away, leave and be alone to think about what had happened on the last hour – man, that was a long panic attack. He knows it wasn’t an entire hour, but the built up, ever since Cas and Balthazar walked in, it had been at least twenty minutes to half an hour – yes, Balthazar had talked _a lot_ , and maybe that had helped Dean a little to delay the attack. He gets up and looks at Cas once more, not being able to understand anything on that exchange look once again, before he leaves escorted by his lawyer.

It’s not like Cas looks different to him, but things _are_ different. Maybe he should be thankful that they were able to live almost four years in blissful ignorance. They had a good relationship, quite unbelievable taking into account how quickly they decided to get married – but, as he had justified to Sam “ _when you know, you know, Sammy!_ ”. And, as they say, ignorance is your best friend. The fucking best apparently.

From day one, Castiel and Dean had defined some ground rules, and for some reason not one of them found weird the fact they’d agreed to never talk about work. Dean told him he was a mechanic on the first day they met, Castiel told him he worked at an accountant office. They never asked for more details, and the need to fill this gap never showed up, because they never felt a gap. It was good. Dean knew if he started asking questions, Castiel would feel the right to ask him back, and Dean couldn’t handle lying even more.

He loved Castiel, more than he ever loved anyone before. Their relationship had this crazy intensity from day one; a pull that made them connect and never wanting to leave each other’s side. It was crazy and scary, but he was willing to take that step, to give up everything if needed. And just knowing that Cas loved him back, the same way, no questions asked, no pushing his boundaries, no forcing him to talk about what he didn’t feel comfortable? Without half of his shitty life story, Cas understood him more than anyone and accepted him for who Dean was. And who he was with Cas was a lot better than who he was at the Campbell mansion or behind a gun, aiming at some target he was sent to put down – no questions asked.

With Cas, he was only Dean – loved to cook and bake like no other person Castiel had ever met, had an unmeasured love for romantic comedies, goofball, could ate and drink double his weight, had a quick temper, and loved to spoil the kids with candies at Halloween, and Christmas, somehow he had managed to find a way to spoil the kids with cookies on Christmas. At the mansion, he was just a Winchester, trained to kill without questions asked. And he was good at the job. He never questioned and it never actually bothered him. It was how he was built and trained by Samuel himself. And after everything that had happened to him, Dean was more than glad to hand himself over to someone else completely. Sure, sometimes it was tiring, but what job wasn’t? But if he had to pick one, he would turn his back on Samuel and the Campbells in a heartbeat. Never looking back.

Without even paying attention to where they were going, Dean finally realized that he would do anything he could to save his relationship with Cas. If the man decided to give him an opportunity to talk and explain everything. If Cas ask for it, Dean will drop everything, he will change his name and everything about him so he won’t be chased by the Campbells – not that that would be necessary, he has enough money to buy his way out without being bothered or worrying about his life. The Old Men liked him, if Samuel ever so much think about doing anything to him, that would be the end of his granddad’s life.

Yes, he’ll do it. He’ll go to the mansion and report back to Samuel and make sure the Old Men know about what happened. Then he’ll go back home and hope Castiel to go back as well. Hope this won’t be their end and Cas will give them a chance.

Better yet, hope that Cas won’t get back home with an army of FBI agents to take him straight to prison.

~ * ~

He has no idea of what to do. Sure, Balthazar is speaking – he does that a lot – but Castiel can’t focus on one single word coming out of his mouth. How does someone process something this big? He takes a deep breath, babbles some excuse to Balthazar and just walks away before getting a reply. Going to the most secluded bathroom in the agency, the one he knows no one ventures to go just because smells weird and is always lacking supplies. He braces himself on the sink and stares at himself in the mirror.

Ok, so Dean is in the mob. Dean, his husband, love of his life, his one and only one-night stand turned to dating to engagement to a somewhat successful marriage is part of one of the biggest mob families to ever exist – according to Balthazar at least. He's killed people. He's killed people Cas has investigated before. He's done a lot of bad things. Things that are not appropriate and completely wrong. He's probably the guy Balthazar will have Cas hunting down for the foreseeable future.

And Cas is a fed. No way Dean will remain married to a fed right? I mean, Cas is everything Dean runs away from. He's a liability to Dean. If Dean's family ever dreamed about the fact that their second in line is married to a fed, they'd both be dead in a second. At least Cas would.

If everything Balthazar has told him about the Campbells is true, Castiel knows he doesn’t stand a single chance. If what he’s seen about Dean’s file is true – and, man, that is a thick file – he knows he would probably be in danger right now. A part of him wants to believe that Dean wouldn’t kill him right away. A part of him is holding onto the memories, those last four years they’ve been together. Holding on tight and hoping Dean is doing the same, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

It’s not like Dean could be really mad, right? I mean, he lied as well. But then, it’s not like Castiel asked him to give a detail on his family and his actual job. And Castiel was naïve enough to trust his gut and believe Dean was a good man, and not ask their IT department to look into him. It was supposed to be a one-night stand, after all, it’s not really their fault that it became a marriage.

Ok, _maybe_ it is.

Man, what a mess. Castiel has no idea of how to come to terms with what just happened almost two hours ago. Seeing Dean in handcuffs – that was kinda hot, for another moment, maybe, or maybe that wouldn’t be in one of Dean’s kinks, not as funny if there’s a real possibility of you actually being handcuffed on the way to jail, right? – seeing the sheer panic in his eyes for brief seconds, then the staring. It felt as if Dean wanted to burn a hole through his skull, and Cas knows he wasn’t so far behind. He wanted answers, they needed to talk but it was the wrong place and wrong time. And Balthazar was incapable of keeping his mouth shut for just two seconds! Even if it wasn’t Dean in there, no way Castiel would be able to assess the situation and the suspect to gather enough information.

And then came the panic attack. All of their relationship, Castiel has never seen Dean that way, and he hoped he never would – probably wouldn’t, given the fact they’re probably gonna get a divorce in a couple of hours. Castiel knew how much Dean hated not having control – other than inside their bedroom, Dean felt the need to control everything (now, doesn’t that make so much sense now that he knows the truth about Dean?) – and he hated seen him suffering, struggling to regain control over his body and mind. He couldn’t breathe and for a long time it seemed he couldn’t even hear Castiel calling for him. And it took everything in Castiel to not use their silly pet names or trying something that would give away their relationship. Thankfully Balthazar saw his behavior as just concern and worry to not get a law suit under their belt. Uriel would kill them if an _almost_ _mob boss_ sued them for being mistreated.

 _Mob_. Almost a _mob boss_. Those words keep coming back. It’s hard for him to place the words with the man who they belong too. The man that belongs _to him_. For better or worse. In sickness and in healthy. And all of the other crazy shit they added to their vows. Whoever allowed them to write together their vows under a few doses of whisky was not in their right mind. Who would say a courthouse wedding could be so funny?

What is he supposed to do? Should his difficulty to see Dean as a mob member be enough to make him forgive him? Is there _anything_ to be forgiven? It was a very straight conversation they had early on about not feeling comfortable sharing details about their private lives. And even if a few months later they decided they knew each other long enough to get married – the second craziest thing Castiel has ever done in his life – all the information they hadn’t gathered seemed useless. It’s not like Cas would love Dean any less if he actually found out that he was a prostitute or a garbage man, right? But he’s not either… He’s in the mob. His grandfather is the current boss and Dean is second in line.

Does that change anything?

He would like to know what Dean is thinking right now. Does Cas’ real job is enough to make him stop love him? To end their marriage? To call his brother and ask him to draw the divorce papers? Will Cas get home tonight and find an envelope with the divorce papers? Will he get a saying on what he wants? Maybe he could buy Dean’s part of the house. But would Castiel want to stay at that place? Their place? Their house? The one they bought together and shared expenses? The one they painted over a long weekend? The one Dean had built a small space for Cas to start gardening – something he hadn’t started yet –, maybe one day create his bees?

There were so many memories in there, he doubts Dean would want to keep the house, and he wouldn’t want that either. It was _theirs_ , and if _they_ ’re not going to be together anymore, then there’s no point. It’s not like he’ll find someone else willing to fill the spare bedroom, the one they didn’t decorate and didn’t put any furniture in because they don’t want to get hopeful about one day being able to adopt a kid – and if they _do_ get to adopt one, they want to give the kid the choice to decorate his or her bedroom as they wish.

Castiel takes a deep breath and lowers his head. He has no idea of what’s going to happen, what he’s supposed to do. Actually, he knows what he _needs_ to do, and that is talk to someone else. But the only person he would run to talk to is Dean. His best friend. His husband. The _almost_ mob boss.

God, Dean must hate him so much right now, definitely looking for the most trusting lawyer out there (probably Sam) to take care of their divorce in silence, so his family won't learn about this. Or if they do, Cas will be long gone. Dean will probably say he killed him.

Oh my god.

Dean _will_ probably kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter warning:** very brief mention/description of panic attack. Dean feels a lil overwhelmed, thankfully Cas is there to bring him back.
> 
> \------
> 
> Boy, oh boy!
> 
> This one was so hard to write, but is so necessary. I like it because it gives us a few more details regarding our boys, but the angst, the tension!
> 
>  **Next time:** we see the aftermath of this new discovery. Any guesses on what's going to happen? Will they be able to talk like two adults?
> 
> Once again, thanks for all the support!
> 
> Love, Blue 💙


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, I'm a very anxious person and posting once a week was too much waiting for me, so now we're changing to two chapters a week until the very end (which will come faster now, since this fic only has 7 chapters, but let's not think about that).
> 
> Updates come now on Tuesdays and Fridays, okay?
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one 😘

When Dean parks the Impala on the driveway, he can see the lights inside their house are on. A strange pattern on the living room window shows Cas is watching TV. Or maybe the FBI agents are walking around with extra flash lights, because, you know, just in case. Dean takes a deep breath, there are no extra cars on the street and his garage seems intact so he hopes Castiel hasn’t brought the big guns yet. Probably Cas is not even on the house and he just did that to deceive him. Why would Cas do that is an entirely different matter. One Dean doesn’t even want to think about.

He’s tired of thinking. All afternoon since he left the bureau he’s been thinking. Not even on the rare occasion of Samuel asking his opinion on something does Dean thinks that much. He’s a natural strategist, so he understands whatever Samuel needs help with. But this? This is way out of his league. He tried to think this through imagining the Castiel he knows and fell in love with – something that, till this day, not even Sam believes actually happened, but there they are. But the problem is that Dean doesn’t know if that Cas, _his Cas_ , is the same he saw at the bureau.

Certainly there was some residue of him when Cas went to help him with his stupid panic attack, but did it stay long enough? Which Castiel is inside the house now? The one he’s married to or the one that is a FBI agent? Probably now responsible to hunt him down and bring him to justice for all his _alleged_ crimes.

The only upside of this entire mess is Crowley finally walking away. Samuel was livid when they got back to the mansion and Dean walked him through what had happened. Coward that he was, Crowley managed to escape, unlike Dean that actually stood behind and allowed himself to get caught – yes, Dean _could have_ escaped, but he was better than that. He had seen the results of his actions already with their men, and later when Samuel finally gave in and put Dean on the position Crowley used to occupy. He had no idea of what was gonna happen with Crowley now, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even care about his new promotion as he thought he would. Of course, that had been _before_.

It was exhausting enough to try and think of something else other than Cas and his apparent secret identity. Dean wanted to call Sam, maybe even Charlie and see if she could find something about him. A part of him still considering the fact that all this time Castiel could be on an undercover job trying to get some info from his family – the logical part of this thought process made him think what a terrible agent and spy that would make Cas. They’ve been together for four years and he got nothing from Dean – that’s what he _chooses_ to believe, anyway.

Dean was always careful to never bring work home. No one knew where his house was, he had asked Charlie to erase that from the map. Other than Sam – and Jess and their kid, obviously –, she was the only one that knew about Castiel. And she had seen how weird Dean was all afternoon, but the man couldn’t bring himself to talk about what had happened. It was too much, and deep down he knew he owed to Castiel to talk this through first before saying anything to anyone else.

Given Castiel is not inside with a gun pointed at him just waiting to knock him down, of course.

He looks around once more, pure habit, and puts back his wedding ring on his finger. He supposes he needs a time to feel the weight of it on his finger before he needs to take off forever after whatever happens inside that house. There’s no doubt in his mind that Castiel will ask for the divorce if he doesn’t kill Dean. Either way, that is probably the last time he’ll carry that ring, he takes a moment to enjoy it.

Inside the house, the TV is on but there’s no sound. With some stupid sense of relief Dean notices there are no bags packed near the door or the stairs to the bedrooms – man, he _needs_ to slow down on his romantic comedies. Damn you, stupid hope. He puts his bag on the floor and knocks off his shoes. Castiel’s shoes are on the same spot as ever and Dean feels his stomach filled with butterflies. Even though he suspected Cas was home, seeing his shoes inside seems like a good confirmation of that. Cas being home means he might be open to conversation, right? Or even if they end up trading punches, it’s still better than radio silence.

He follows the hallway, surprised to see that Castiel is not on the living room, but he hears the coffee machine working on the kitchen and, feeling his entire body trembling, he goes there. Castiel is filling a second cup of coffee when Dean stops at the entryway, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. He knows Castiel heard him, there’s no other explanation for the second cup of coffee or how tense his shoulders are – hell, his entire body seems hard as a rock and not in a good way. So Dean trembles and Castiel tenses up in stressful situations like that, that’s something he never thought he would need to know – or ever find out.

Castiel turns to him and everything seems to disappear. His wild messy hair is messier than usual and Dean knows very well what that means. His blue eyes seem darker and unsettled. Dean recognizes the feeling: Castiel feels uncomfortable inside his own house. Dean knows that very well, it’s exactly how he’s feeling right now. It doesn’t feel like they belong in there, they’re strangers in their own house until they talk about and get to the bottom of this situation.

He thought he would feel good, calm, and sure of what to do once he faced Cas. But as soon as they got in the same room, the butterflies in his stomach vanished and he doesn’t know how to act around him. Normally he would sit by the isle, grab the cup of coffee and drink. He and Cas would talk through any problem and find a solution. But it’s not as easy as it seems. This isn’t just any problem. It’s not a matter of deciding how they’ll distribute their cleaning duties around the house – whether or not Dean should clean up after he cooks or if Cas should be the one doing the cleaning, since Dean went through all of the trouble of cooking and vice-versa.

No, it’s a fucking _secret identity_. Two, actually, since none of them were honest about that side of their lives. What is casual about that?

The staring contest is back; Dean has no idea of what he’s supposed to say – does he have anything to say? Maybe Cas should be the one to say something, he’s the good guy around here after all, right? Dean is in the _mob_ , there’s not really a contest on who’s good and who’s bad.

Castiel seems to pick up on Dean’s intention and just nods before he takes the steps to the island of their now too large kitchen – honestly, the entire house feels huge now and he feels as though Cas and him are a thousand miles apart. He puts both cups of coffee in there and wraps his hands around his. He doesn’t drink it though; Dean knows he just needs to do something with his hands. Cas always does that whenever they need to discuss something and he’s not exactly comfortable with it.

“Hello, Dean,” he eventually says and Dean thanks the heavens above for the doorframe he’s leaning against or he would be down on the floor. Cas’ voice doesn’t carry any weight, any blame or anger. It sounds stable, focused, even a little warmer – like he’s used to hear. It’ a good sign, right?

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says it back when he realizes his husband actually waits for his usual greeting. His voice sounds weird, but he won’t care about that. Not when blue eyes seem to get lighter and clearer. Whatever Cas heard in his very short nervous greeting is enough to soothe him and make his shoulders relax a little bit. Man, they are pathetic.

“To be completely honest with you, I don’t really know what to say here.” He laughs, is okay to laugh, right? Cas seems more relaxed, so maybe Dean should feel that way as well, right?

“That makes both of us,” Dean concedes. And is not for lack of trying. He concludes Castiel should have priority. It’s a lot more common someone to be an agent of the FBI than on the mob, so… “I assume you have questions?”

Castiel looks slightly taken aback by Dean’s offer. He doesn’t know why; it seems quite obvious that he should be offering answers. Castiel must have tons of them to ask him. He may not know what to say, but he’s definitely prepared to be questioned by his husband all night if Cas wants to. Whatever he needs to do for the smallest chance of saving that marriage.

“You’ll tell me everything I want to know?” Cas asks, seeming uncertain. Dean just shrugs, he’ll give anything Cas wants and asks for. “I guess… Maybe I just want to know when? And how? I mean, you’re a Winchester, you took me to see your parent’s graves… I’m just…”

“Mom was a Campbell,” Dean tells, understanding what he’s looking for. “She took off when dad proposed to her and she soon found out she was pregnant with me. She didn’t want her family living this life, she always hated – that’s what dad told us anyway, you know we didn’t have much time with her. But after dad died, Samuel was our only _direct_ family and he took advantage of that.”

“So your entire childhood story is not a lie?”

“I never lied to you, Cas… Well, I _hid_ some facts, but never lied.” Apart from his mob life, Dean was always very honest with Castiel. He just hoped Cas would believe him.

“And you never knew about me?” Castiel asked. It seems like he had some of the same doubts Dean had. Whether or not Dean had gotten close to him to spy on the FBI or allure them away from their family.

“No… I guess I should’ve. If we had met through common circles, Samuel would make me do some background checking on you. But that’s not how it happened, I guess I just trusted you.” Once more, Dean shrugs and takes the steps to approach the island and finally grab his cup of coffee. Is lukewarm now, not how he prefers, but he’ll take. He and Cas are being civil enough, and he notices Cas doesn’t flinch when his hand gets closer to him. That’s a good sign, right? “Did you look me up?”

“Not even today,” Castiel confesses. “All these years, it never crossed my mind. All I know is what Balthazar told me before we walked in the interrogation room. I didn’t think I would see you today, after....”

“Samuel was pretty pissed, I didn’t want to stick around and be his new punching bag. Besides, I had more important things to do. _Someone_ more important to get to.” He tries to smile, but he’s still unsure about what is gonna happen, and he feels the smile faltering.

“What happened? To get him pissed?” Are they really talking about it? Is this their new normal? Is this how it’s gonna be from now on?

“We got caught. The man in charge was stupid and FBI came to us,” Dean speaks as if they’re discussing the last football game. “Crowley finally got himself fired… About damn time if you ask me.”

“Who’s going to take his place?” Castiel asks almost on auto mode. Dean just takes one meaningful look at him and sees understanding falling upon his husband. Something inside of him feels wrong, but Dean doesn’t know how to address that, not now anyway. “Oh…”

They go back at being silent and staring at each other. Cas’ shoulders tense up and the coffee tastes stale in Dean’s mouth, he puts the cup away.

When the silence is broken, once again is by Cas. And Dean almost falls of the stool at his words.

“So… I guess we need to stablish some ground rules.”

~ * ~

Castiel is not sure about much. But he is sure about one thing: he’s not giving up on Dean. Yes, he’s in the mob and now he’s taking a job being responsible for killing more of his men. And that is wrong, and Castiel should be putting him in cuffs and taking him to the bureau for questioning and taking him to jail shortly after. But he’s also his husband, and he _knows_ Dean.

He had his doubts earlier, but now everything is crystal clear. The Dean he knew four years ago, the Dean he fell in love with, the Dean he married… _That’s_ his Dean. The _real_ Dean. The one on the mob? That’s some other twisted version that Samuel created. That’s what it was, the mobster Dean was just Samuel’s creation. A façade, a mask. The real Dean was wearing his wedding ring, looking at him with uncertainty clouding his green eyes. The Dean he would take a bullet for, putting his hands on the fire and all this stupid stuff people say they’d do for who they love and trust with everything they have.

He’s obviously not going to quit his job at the FBI, and he doesn’t expect Dean to quit the mob – he doesn’t even know how that actually works, but he hopes it wouldn’t put their lives in danger. He had been honest: he hadn’t looked up on Dean, and he believed when Dean told him he hadn’t either. They made this work for four years, there’s no reason why not to keep making this work – except, maybe, being illegal, but Cas won’t think about that now, or ever for that matter. But they had to stablish some rules so to not put the other under unnecessary danger.

“Just like this?” Dean asks, clearly not believing his own ears.

“Yes. Unless there’s something else you want to discuss?” Castiel asks. He’s well aware that Dean didn’t ask any questions, he just gave the information Cas asked to. Castiel shouldn’t really be surprised about that, but he was, and that was also what helped him realize what he had been questioning all afternoon about the _real_ Dean.

“Cas, man… Look, I love you and shit, but… You’re just gonna simply accept that I’m in the mob? You’re FBI, man! Isn’t this wrong?” In case he still had any doubts about real Dean, that would settle completely.

“Only if we get caught.” He replies, only to receive a shocked gasp from Dean.

Sure, Cas needs to give it to him. He’s not the reckless one of their duo. Dean is the guy that shoots first and asks questions later, he’s the one that would jump out of plane – even though he’s scared shitless of them –, he’s the one that would take on a spicy challenge or any other stupid shenanigan. Unlike Castiel, the more logical one, the cautious one. They were the embodiment of opposites attract and Castiel believed that that was the reason why they got along so well from day one.

Dean was his one and only one-night stand; Castiel didn’t even wanted to dream about what number he occupied on Dean’s list of one-night stands. Dean was the one proposing to him after only six months of dating, and his speech was so logical that Castiel just said yes. Dean was the one to convince him of buying a house and start preparing the ground for their family, whilst Castiel was still fixed on the “plan”. They moved into the house on their one-year anniversary – of dating, not marriage.

So for Castiel to be the reckless one right now and jumping to the opportunity of willfully lying to his own bosses, and making Dean lie to his entire family. Not to mention: committing a federal crime for housing (and pretty much hiding) a mob member, probably wanted for innumerous crimes Castiel didn’t even bother to check when given the opportunity. That sure was a shock. From the looks of it, Dean seemed to be divided between shock and arousal – Castiel knew for a fact that Dean loved whenever Cas acted like the reckless one.

“Dean, we’ve been living like that for four years now and no one caught us. We managed to lie… _Hide_ ” he corrects when he sees Dean flinching at the word. It wasn’t a lie, just an omission, there’s a difference, even if it’s a small one, “from each other all this time. I don’t want to lose you, and I don’t want you to choose between me and your job.”

From the look Dean gives him, is very obvious Dean would drop everything in a heartbeat if Castiel asked him to.

“Don’t wanna lose you either,” Dean says. “And I’d always chose you, Cas, you know that, right? I just can’t right now. Samuel would never allow it.”

“I understand.” He doesn’t, not completely, he has no idea how mafia works. And he’s not sure he wants to understand now. “So… Ground rules.”

“Can you get out of whatever that French dude put you in?” Now that Dean seems in on the plan, Castiel can almost see his brain working trying to think of the best way to keep their relationship, and themselves, safe.

“Balthazar? I can try, but I’m not sure he’ll allow it. It’s a big case, you know.”

“Just keep him away from me, okay? He wants to come after the family, be my guest. Just leave me out of it.” Dean asks and Castiel wants to ask him to elaborate, but he’s not sure he _should_ know. Knowing Dean is part of a mob family is big enough, he needs to ensure _some_ plausible deniability.

“We’ll keep doing the same as ever and not ask about each other’s job.” Castiel suggests at that thought and Dean agrees.

They keep discussing it for the next hour. Castiel didn’t think there was much to discuss, but he was completely wrong – or it’s just Dean’s being the most protective Castiel had ever seen. Cas knows for a fact how protective Dean can be of his loved ones, so it’s quite obvious that he will be extra-cautious now that they know about each other. They know that they didn’t look each other up, but there’s always the possibility of someone else knowing about them and trying to play a game.

They hope it never happens and they are able to keep on living theirs lives just like before, but one can’t never be too cautious – is what Dean says anyway. And he would be the one to say, since he’s now taking over security detail, the _only_ thing about his role in the family he reveals. Castiel is fine with it, he doesn’t want to know more or he’ll just work himself his own panic attack.

“Are you okay?” Castiel asks as soon as they seem to finish the serious part of the talk and he thinks about panic attacks. “This afternoon, at the interrogation room, you…”

“Yeah, I’m better now. Just too much going at once, ya know? Got a little overwhelmed.”

“You though I’ve been lying to you all this time?”

“Honestly? I didn’t think much, Cas,” Dean gives in, his hand now holding Cas’ over the island. “I was caught off guard, just like you. But you know how I am.”

“You like to be in control.”

“Yeah… Learning your husband is a FBI agent and comes to question you is quite a surprise.” Dean laughs but Cas knows he’s just faking. “There was a lot of things to process and that dude wouldn’t shut up, and I couldn’t talk to you properly… So, yeah… sorry you had to see that.”

“Dean… There’s no need to apologize. It was too much. I think if you hadn’t, I would.”

“Thank God it was me, it would suck to see you like that and not being able to go to you and do something to bring you back.” Dean shrugs at the thought and Castiel smiles, there is his husband. Dean looks away for a moment, his posture changing and Castiel waits patiently, holding his hand and squeezing it lightly so Dean knows that, whatever it is, is okay to say or ask. When he looks at him, his green eyes are soft but there’s a shadow of doubt and uncertainty threatening to cloud it. “Are we good, Cas? Or do I need to pack a bag and leave for a couple of days? Give you some space?”

Castiel sighs and goes around the island until he’s next to Dean. Green eyes rise up to stare at his blue ones and Castiel smiles before he leans to seal his lips with Dean’s. Castiel can feel the tension leaving Dean’s body instantly and smiles.

“We’re good, my love,” he says after he ends their kiss. His smile grows bigger when he feels Dean’s arms hugging him, and Castiel gives in, holding his husband against his upper body. He knows Dean needs the touch to assure him, to ground him. He knows there’s still doubt in his husband’s mind about their current status, and Castiel would do anything to erase all of them. “I love you, Dean,” he whispers against his hair.

“Love you, _agent_.” He feels more than he hears Dean’s laugh, and that causes him to laugh as well, eliminating any remaining tension.

They are good. Hopefully they’ll stay that way for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We stan over-protective Dean in this houselhold lol
> 
> Sooo, what did you guys think? Is it gonna work? Are they gonna be okay?
> 
> Next chapter is probably my favorite (who am I kidding? Is *is* my favorite lol), so no preview, let's just say Dean gets pretty pissed 😉
> 
> Don't forget to leave some kudos and/or comments if you are enjoying the fic. I'll see you guys on the next one!
> 
> Love, Blue 💙


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya lovelies!
> 
> Sorry for the little delay! To be honest, I almost didn't post today, but I remembered how much I like this one and needed the little pick me up, so here we are!
> 
> This one is my favorite, and has the scene from [the prompt](https://i.redd.it/f75zekg1g1p11.png) that inspired this entire fic - I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did when writing it.
> 
> Huge thank you to [Arianllyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arianllyn/pseuds/Arianllyn) for helping me with the legal info regarding whether or not our boys are in trouble and what should be their next step regarding keeping each other safe and not getting caught - despite not being my intention to dive further into this, I tried to add that here just because it felt right.
> 
> Anyway, let's go and see what our boys are up to today.

Dean spends his morning at the gym in the mansion. Is the only place in the entire house Samuel doesn’t go, so it’s pretty much his second version of heaven on Earth. And he’s torn between relief that Samuel doesn’t go downstairs and pissed because he wished his granddad would come and challenge him for a practice. Dean would _love_ an opportunity to lay some punches on his face without bigger consequences or any questions asked.

They have a delivery coming in right after lunch, against _Dean_ ’s advice of being a very shitty time to get a delivery. Has he forgotten what caused Crowley to be fired a year ago? The stupid pompous bastard thought it would be a great idea to get a delivery bright and early, and cost the entire team being taken to FBI headquarters – including Dean himself, he makes sure to add as he punches the bag with all his anger imagining it to be Samuel’s face. People seem to have forgotten what Crowley did, but Dean would never. He would never forget the fear of losing Castiel, losing a relationship he knew it would never happen again if he missed it.

Ever since Dean took over security details he changed everything Crowley did wrong. Since he was also responsible for shipments, he decided to finally put into action everything Crowley ignored. And even though he avoided as much as possible to use his basic knowledge regarding his husband’s job, Dean couldn’t deny that it was useful to share the bed with a FBI agent – he could learn just by watching and catching some conversations here and there about their routines and courses of action to ensure his team would be safer. So shipments would only be received or sent late in the night – _after_ midnight, he had found to be the best time. They have enough money to pay whoever they need to ensure that – and people _actually_ like Dean, so that’s a plus and makes things run smoothly. Crowley wasn’t likable or respected; how he managed to last so long on the job was beyond Dean’s comprehension.

Today, though, Samuel had arranged a shipment behind Dean’s back. Words running around the hallways of the mansion was that it was a test. Dean wasn’t sure of what exactly. Probably his patience.

The worst part of all was that he hadn’t been able to reach Castiel and let him know shit was going down. _His_ shipments he never gave warning notices, Cas had picked up on that very early – much like Dean had done, Cas made sure to do his homework without asking Dean any questions, just watching his behavior and listening some things here and there, nothing that would compromise either of them, obviously. But this, this was a mess just waiting to happen and he had this feeling in his guts that he needed to warn his husband. But Castiel was probably swamped at work, because he hadn’t picked up any of his calls or answered his text messages.

Ever since they found out about each other, they laid down very important ground rules, and, even more important, Castiel found a way to be pulled away from the case involving Dean’s family. He had no idea of how his husband managed to get out of this without giving to many details, but Cas knew he couldn’t be a part of that. Plausible denial involved a lot more than just not asking questions about each other’s job, it was trying to be as far from each other as possible whenever they were in the field. Sure, his colleague – Balthazar, Dean had learned, British, not French as he thought – was not happy at all with Castiel asking to be left out from the case without getting into details of his reasons, and despite being forced to accept that he would have to deal with that mess on his own, every now and then Balthazar would find a way to get Cas’ input on the case. Dean had learned very early on whenever the Brit would do that, because Cas would get home pissed at his colleague’s persistence.

So, when things go smoothly, according to _his_ plans, and not Samuel’s, Dean feels no need to give a heads up to Cas. Now when something like what is about to happen later happens, Dean feels his guts twisting and a weird tingle on the back of his neck. He _needs_ to reach out to Cas, give him some warning – and if the voice of his husband has magic powers that are capable of calming him down and easing his anxiety, that’s just an added bonus.

“Hey, angry boy!” Charlie called from the door. Dean stopped the punching and looked over towards her. “Lunch is ready. You better eat well. Gotta be strong for this afternoon.”

“Not in the mood,” he said, walking away from the punching bag that had lost Samuel’s face since Charlie’s intervention, and sat at a nearby bench, unfolding the bands around his hands.

“Bad day?” She asks, even though both of them know that she knows what is going down pretty well. Better than Dean, probably.

“It will be,” he grumbles, catching Charlie approaching him carefully. Dean sighs heavily. “What is he thinking?”

“He’s not. He just wants you to fail.”

“I get that! I just don’t understand why… I mean,” Dean throws the bands inside his duffle bag and grabs a bottle of water. “He trained me to be just like I am now, why does he wants me to fail? What good does it do to him?”

“The student became the master, Dean, that is the problem – a very good one, if you ask me. And the student didn’t want to take his name. He knows you’re next and he knows you’ll change to Winchester.” Charlie says, she avoids sitting next to him and Dean can’t blame her. He probably stinks. “He hated your father, thinks John stole Mary away. Seeing his legacy take on your dad’s name? I mean… He’d rather burn in hell…”

“Which he will.”

“Than seeing John’s memory take over what he built over the years.” Charlie finishes as if Dean hadn’t said anything.

“It’s fucking stupid,” Dean says even though he knows it’s useless, Samuel will do whatever he wants, _however_ he wants to. The only thing Dean _can_ do is obey and try to work around his granddad’s stupid plan, hoping no one gets seriously injured – or killed. He looks around a couple of times, making sure they are alone just for extra precaution. “I need you to try and reach Cas. Tell him is going down so he’ll stay the fuck away.”

“I thought he wasn’t working on the case anymore.”

“He’s not, but his partner doesn’t care sometimes. And I haven’t been able to reach him yet, so… Trusting you, Red.”

“You got it. Now go take a shower, you stink.” She pushed him away when Dean tried to hug her. “You’ve been here all day?”

“Only place free from Samuel.” He shrugs and Charlie laughs.

“Good to know.” She looks at him as Dean gets up. “Seriously, eat something.” Dean just nods, he knows better than to go on a mission with empty stomach.

Charlie is as lucky as Dean to try and reach Castiel. Dean just hopes Balthazar will stay the fuck away, or if he doesn’t, he won’t drag Cas to this mess. He still has some nightmares about the first time they met at a shooting. Luckily no one got seriously hurt, and Dean and Castiel managed to leave the scene without a single scratch. But the stress, damn, that had been a bitch. From that point on, they agreed Castiel would stay away from Dean’s usual working grounds no matter how many ways Balthazar threated him to find out his _dirty little secret_ , as the Brit would say to Cas.

Before getting into the car, Dean tried to call his husband one last time but it went to voice mail straight away. Great, now his phone is dead.

 _Just fucking perfect, Castiel_.

Dean hopes he’s just obsessing over nothing, so he takes a deep breath, gets in the car and in his usual mindset for these missions. It’s risky and long, he hates those. They are the most difficult ones to plan even during night time, he still can’t figure out why Samuel would think it would be good to do it mid-afternoon. The amount of money they could lose if the feds get to them. The Old Men would not appreciate that. And he knows Samuel will try to throw him under the bus, and considering his granddad is completely oblivious to the fact that Dean is a likable guy and the favorite from the upper hands, he’ll believe it’ll work and he’ll have an excuse to finally fire Dean or bench him for who knows how long.

Dean knows that Samuel hates the fact that he’s being so successful. Crowley used to lose more than half of their shipments, Dean was very close to zero. Even when the FBI would try to close in on them, he still managed to leave the scene with all of his men alive, some minor injuries and a great portion of their deliveries. And Samuel hates his numbers. Because they were supposed to be Crowley’s number, or any other person rather than Dean.

Basically, Samuel hated that Dean had become so good. Just like Charlie had said, the student becoming the master. And a _better_ master.

So much for not liking the mob life, Dean would constantly think. But he liked the logistics, coming up with plans and trying to think of new patterns to throw the FBI out of their radar. Castiel used to say he would make a great agent, even better than him. Dean tried not to think about it; about a life on the right side of society. The current one he was living wasn’t his long term plan anyway.

“Alright, gentlemen,” he said inside the van and on his mic. “Let’s make this as quick and clean as possible. No casualties, if possible. Let’s do our job and get this goodies home.”

“Yes, sir.”

He liked that nobody questioned him more about the casualties. Those were the numbers Crowley was more focused on. He always went for a bloodshed. Dean didn’t. And not just because he kinda knew who was on the other side, but because they’re still people. The same way he hated whenever he had to visit a family member of one of his men to tell them they had died, he could imagine what a bitch it was for the other side. So no casualties, if possible. And he knew they always were. Ever since he took over, the number of deaths had dropped substantially – another thing Samuel hated so much. Apparently he really hated Dean’s humanity, which made even less sense, and only served to further proof of Dean’s beliefs that his granddad was losing his mind.

As usual, Dean looked for higher ground whilst his men scattered around the place. They were at a warehouse, the delivery inside being loaded on to a few trucks – he didn’t even want to know what is inside all those boxes. He had a feeling Samuel had been buying stupid shit just to jeopardize him and his crew even more, so Dean tried to stay away as much as possible just to not get more annoyed at the man.

They had some peace for almost an hour, finishing the first truck and halfway through the second when he heard the tires crunching the pavement. Four or five black SUVs coming from everywhere, causing Dean to curse and going down. One quick signal and all of his men were ready by the time hell broke loose.

He hated those moments. Even though he was extremely trained for those specifics situations, he still hated. Because _his_ men were warned to not kill, but the other side didn’t seem to agree with them. He knew the FBI couldn’t _technically_ kill them, but if it was presented as self-defense, who would blame them to protect their lives – and the lives of all the Americans – against some _mob trash_?

“Fuck,” he cursed once he recognized Cas’ messy hair. Yes, he was hot with all the gear on and shooting to kill, but Dean still hated to see him there. It was the only fantasy he didn’t see them working on in their bedroom. “Damn it, Cas.”

He tried to focus on the others, his men, the shipment, but every time his eyes would search for the dark brown messy hair of his husband, wanting to make sure he was okay. Dean avoided firing any shot in his direction or close to him. He already hated to see Cas on those scenes, being the one to shoot at him? That was asking for _a lot_ of sleepless nights.

Things seemed to be slowing down, he could see that, despite the shooting, some of his men kept loading the truck. _There goes your fucking shit, Samuel, I hope it’s worth it_. So if they could just finish it fast enough, they could flee and leave the FBI behind.

He could see the FBI was getting outnumbered pretty quick, but he didn’t think there was any big casualty – not on his part at least, it had been a long time since Dean shot to kill.

“Finish the load and leave,” he ordered on their coms on their ears, seeing his men acknowledging his orders and finishing the loading.

It was just a fraction of a second to give the order, but enough to distract him and cause him to be caught.

Dean felt the bullet burning its way through his shoulder, the impact causing him to take a few steps back. He was pretty much a trained soldier, even though he never followed the military path, the training his grandfather gave him was pretty much the same. He had a good aim, he was quick on the trigger and even quicker to calculate the trajectory of the bullet. One look on the way the bullet came and he knew _who_ had shot him. Dark messy hair, blue – wide in shock and slight terror – eyes that would be pretty much the death of him some day – luckily, not today.

 _Oh no,_ _he didn't_.

That moment, Dean saw red. He had been freaking missing the goddamned shots so not one of his fucking partners would get badly hurt or killed, and the fucking fucker goes on and shots him anyway?

Castiel wasn't even supposed to be here. And now not only he is, but _he fucking shot him_ , on his right arm. And it fucking hurts. Dean is sure the injured arm is also dislocated due the impact of the shot, luckily he didn’t break anything and it’s just gonna be a bitch to heal and close the wound. Who knows how long he'll be benched for that.

He's gonna fucking _kill_ Castiel.

~ * ~

Castiel had barely closed the door behind him when he heard the glass of whiskey shattering on the wall, missing him by a few feet. More like a _warning_ shot rather than a _missed_ one. Dean never missed.

"YOU FUCKING SHOT ME!" His husband yelled as soon as Cas looked at him. Standing at the end of the corridor that led to their front-door, barefoot, wearing his hot-dog pajama pants, black t-shirt and a sling across his chest to support his injured arm. Castiel was glad Dean seemed to be _really_ mad at him, otherwise it would be really hard to not think how _adorable_ he looks like that.

Yes, he did shoot him. And he dreaded that all day, almost hating Balthazar when his partner told him to go home because there was nothing else for Castiel there. He begged to differ. Castiel would do _anything_ to prolong his return home. He would even fill out every single late report everyone kept pushing away until the very last minute, just so he wouldn't have to go home to face his shot-on-the-right-arm-by-him husband. Maybe Balthazar should be the one to come home and be yelled at by Dean, it was his fault, after all, that Castiel was even in the middle of that shooting – Castiel was the unlucky one to pull the trigger for the bullet that would hit his husband.

Castiel had hoped – hell, he almost _prayed_ – the bullet had missed, or the person he shot at wasn't Dean, that he had projected the image of his husband after he fired the gun. But after the shooting was done and he was back at the office, he could see the traffic cam footage and there he was, aiming his gun at his husband – who, he _needed_ to add, was aiming at everyone at the scene _but_ Cas. He had also noticed Dean and his team weren’t shooting to kill anyone; Castiel had actually confirmed later that there were no casualties and the few agents that got shot, would be able to return to work in just a few weeks. And even with all of this, he had freaking shot his husband. On the arm. The right one. His best one – even though Dean was good even under an earthquake, with his right hand tied on his back and blindfolded.

Dean's face never made the cameras, but Castiel knew that body very well. Having explored and memorized it over the last five years. He would recognize Dean anywhere. Even on the shitty quality video, after him being shot.

He had no idea of _how_ Dean found out that it was Cas' bullet that had hit him, but he did, and Castiel had become a very shitty liar after he and Dean found out about each other's _jobs_.

Castiel would never hear the end of that.

"Dean..." He started after a very long silence. If looks could kill, Castiel had no doubt he would be very dead the moment he stepped inside the house.

"WHAT WERE YOU EVEN DOING THERE?" Dean yelled again and Cas grimaced. It was very rare to hear Dean yelling, further proof oh how royally pissed he was. Castiel couldn't find in himself to blame him.

"My job!" Castiel managed to reply, even though he knew it was a very weak excuse. Once he had time, Castiel had seen the messages and missed calls Dean sent him during the morning, warning him before the shooting; the problem was that Castiel only had time to check his phone _after_ everything went to hell, and while he waited for any information regarding his husband’s whereabouts and health after the injury, even though he knew that message or phone call wouldn’t come, because no one even knew he existed or was a part of Dean’s life – this was probably the longest day of his life. "If your family stopped, just for a fucking day, to kill my people, I wouldn't have the need to be there."

"Oh, please, we haven't killed anyone in a fucking year. Samuel is actually getting pretty pissed at it and I'm running out of excuses to justify the lack of killing."

 _That_ caught him off guard. He didn't know much about Dean's actual job in the mob, but knowing he was behind the orders to not execute his men and coworkers made him feel even worse for shooting him. Even though it was an _accident_ – not that Dean cared about that right now.

"Dean, I'm really sorry," it was all he could come up with. "Balthazar asked me to go with him, and I had no excuses not to. I didn’t see your messages until way after everything happened. Still, I tried to avoid you."

"Great job..." His husband said bitterly. Pouting, with his right arm up on a sling, he made quite a picture. Castiel wanted nothing more than just hug him and take care of him until he was free to go back to work. "Four weeks on the bench thanks to you _trying_ to avoid me. I bet your people will be back sooner." Castiel knew for a fact he was right about that. The longest one of them would take to get back would be three weeks and a half, all thanks to Dean apparently. Dean sighed heavily and rubbed his free hand on his face, pointing towards their kitchen, he spoke again. "There's leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry... I'll go to bed."

"It's not even ten..." Castiel looked at the clock on the corridor table, where they usually left their keys and wallets. It was either mentioning the time or being sick over the fact that Dean had managed to cook, or get them food somehow, even though he was hurt, and angry at him.

"Guess what... Getting shot by your _husband_ is pretty tiring."

"I'll never hear the end of this, will I?" Castiel says almost as a thinking out loud kinda thing, not really meant to escalate the fight.

"Have you met me?" Dean scoffed. It was a shame they couldn't actually meet each other families and have big gatherings. Cas knew this story would be told every Thanksgiving. "Good night."

"I do love you," Cas risked, his voice low and uncertain. He looked at his husband, watching for any changes in his body language and almost sighing in relief when he saw the green of his eyes getting softer when Dean looked at him, with a tone of disbelief.

"Funny way of showing it," Dean said, but his voice was less harsh. He looked away for a moment before returning his eyes towards Cas. "You know, if this was about our last argument where you said I haven't been staying at home much lately; if we _talked_ again, you know, like two grown-ups, I’m pretty sure we could've found a common ground. Without one of us being _shot_."

"It' wasn’t... But now that you reminded me of that, I guess I don't feel as guilty anymore." Dean gasped and Cas shrugged. Losing pretty easily the struggle to hide his amused smile, and realizing Dean was trying to do the same.

"You're lucky your cute... And bananas in bed." Dean said, pointing one finger towards him. Castiel finally allowed for a big, wide smile, knowing the worst was in the past. He finally took the steps to erase the distance between him and Dean, hugged him carefully and kissed him for the first time since he got home, Dean prolonging their kiss even more than expected for just a simple _welcome home_ kinda kiss.

"Other than being shot, how was your day, my love?" He asked, being extra careful to not touch his arm.

“Exhausting, I hate hospitals.”

“That bad?” Castiel grimaced. It was kind of impossible not talk about the big event.

“You’re lucky the bullet got out pretty clean and I didn’t need surgery.” Dean noted. “You wouldn’t be able to visit me, and I woulda’ve been more pissed at you.” Maybe that explained better the longer-than-usual-welcome-home kiss.

“I knew what I was doing, Dean.” Castiel joked, trying to put away the hard lines on Dean’s forehead.

“So you did it on purpose?” Dean almost raised his arms in celebration, until he remembered – or felt – his injury. Castiel laughed.

“No, Dean, I didn’t shoot you on purpose. You moved last minute, it was too late. And it’s not like I could call you out.”

“Freaking sucks, huh?” Dean mutters and Castiel frowns at his tone. That, mixed with his longer kiss and the lines that won’t go away on his forehead lights up a red flag on Cas’ mind. Maybe Dean’s more exhausted than he shows and maybe it has nothing to do with the bullet?

“Anything you feel like sharing?” Castiel asks, maneuvering them to the couch, realizing Dean seems a little bit paler than usual.

“Just tired, Cas,” Dean says, sitting down and leaning towards him, a soft noise coming out of his throat when he feels Cas’ arms around him. “I hope this is the end of Samuel.”

“What good will it make?” He asks. They never talk about this stuff, but he feels this decision they took together is getting a bit hard for Dean to follow through – especially now. Anything else he doesn’t seem to have a problem with. But it has been awhile since Castiel noticed he’s been acting a little bit weird and always trying to share a bit more than their first agreement.

“I’ll be finally free,” Dean’s voice is so low, Cas suspects he’s afraid someone would be out there trying to hear their conversation. “Today was his stupid idea. He wants me to fail so the Old Men chase me away. He hates that I’m better than him.”

“Well, he can only blame himself for this,” Cas ponders over. The very little Dean told him made clear that the man he was today was trained by Samuel himself. So… If the guy is mad, he has no business being mad at Dean.

“Yeah, right.” Dean scoffs, burying his face deeper in Cas’ chest. “I’m tired.”

“You need to lay down, rest.” Cas tells, interpreting correctly the end of their conversation. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the bedroom.”

“Want to stay with you,” Dean moans, holding Cas tighter. Castiel laughs, it had been awhile since he had to take care of a sick Dean, he had forgotten how clingy he gets.

The next four weeks will be _very_ long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, what did you think? Pissed of Dean wearing hot-dogs pants might be my new favorite thing lol.
> 
>  **Up next:** We notice some changes on our injured boy, and his protectiviness is full on as he try to find the best way out.
> 
> Don't forget to leave some kudos and/or comments if you are enjoying the fic. I'll see you guys on the next one!
> 
> Love, Blue 💙


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, my lovelies!
> 
> This one is kind of a heavy one and the longest one so far - this is where the light angst comes in play, and like the tags say: is more Dean overthinking things than anything else. He has his reasons, tho.
> 
> I hope you guys like it!

Sick Dean is nothing against _injured Dean_. Those are the longest four weeks of Castiel’s life, and he’s forced to call in sick for a couple of days just to be able to take care of his husband – not that Dean is particularly happy about this “I can take care of myself very well, Cas, I don’t need a babysitter”. But Cas can be stubborn as much as Dean, and he can find a counterargument for every argument that Dean tries to throw at him. He doesn’t really care, there’s nothing big going on at the bureau and he and Dean _could_ use some time alone – despite Dean not seeming to acknowledge that. Last time they had that much time for each other was, maybe, on their honeymoon.

During the first week, Dean is moody and grumpy. He gets daily updates from someone inside the mansion about how people are dealing with the shooting, and that seems to make everything worse. He goes back into not sharing things with Cas, so the agent can only guess what is going on. Sure, he could check Dean’s phone, but he doesn’t feel like going to that extreme. If Dean wants to share, Castiel will hear. If he doesn’t, Cas will be the supportive husband he always is.

They have very long hours lying in bed, Dean hating not being able to do anything then cuddling and making out. But Castiel feels he’s done enough, he’s not gonna jeopardize Dean’s healing process even more. Dean now makes jokes about the incident and doesn’t sound so bitter anymore, so that’s an added bonus.

“Fucking hell,” he hears Dean yelling from the bathroom and takes a deep breath. It’s the third day of the second week, Dean’s supposed to be showering, he’s actually got the hang of it after a couple of struggles trying to figure out which movements don’t cause too much pain. Castiel can only imagine what’s the drama about now. “Shit.” He shouts again and Castiel caves, getting up to check on his husband before he starts to destroy their house. Or injure himself in some other way.

“What’s wrong now?” Castiel asks, finishing getting up the stairs and stopping at their bedroom door. Dean is in front of their dresser, struggling with the sling Cas has told him _many_ times not to try and put on his own. _Castiel_ still struggles every time he has to put it on, and he doesn’t have any injury.

“Everything,” Dean complains. “You had to shoot me in the arm, babe?” The term of endearment fills his purpose to show Dean is not actually mad _at him_ , but just the situation. “Not the leg? Even the chest?”

“Yeah, and risk get your heart and you killed? No, thanks.” The thought, even though is a hypothetical one, causes shivers down his entire body.

“Ok, not the chest, not going there. But the leg?” Dean suggests and Cas rolls his eyes. He could have shot Dean’s little toe, making him losing it and Dean would still bitch about it, even though the loss would change nothing in his life.

“I told you not to try and do it on your own.”

“Well, I have to learn, not like you’ll stay here forever.”

“I could.” Castiel says for what it feels like the millionth time.

It’s an argument they’ve had since Saturday, of when is Castiel coming back to work. Cas has no problem whatsoever in staying with Dean for the entirety of the four weeks, but Dean has no problem in showing how much he hates that idea. The babysitter argument came back, and then there was something about a guy needing some alone time. Castiel eventually got Dean to agree on him staying home for just one more week, and the remaining two Dean would be on his own.

“Yeah, whatever. Somebody has to work and pay the bills.” Dean gives his well-rehearsed answer. Castiel approaches him to adjust the sling around his arm and shoulder and in a matter of seconds notices he’s lost his husband to some thought. Dean has been doing that a lot lately – initially he had thought it was due to the painkillers, but Dean refused to take more of the heavy ones after the first three days, hating to feel so sleepy and groggy, so it was clear that the pills had nothing to do with him spacing out every now and then. He waits patiently, smiling when Dean seems to get back to present day and looks at him. “Welcome back.”

“Dork,” Dean smiles and gives him a quick kiss. “Thanks,” he complements adjusting the sling so is more comfortable.

“Are you ever sharing with me where do you go when you get lost like this?” Castiel asks. He’s a patient guy and he won’t be hurt or mad if Dean chooses not to share with him his thought process, but maybe Dean _wants_ to share and just doesn’t know if he should, or if Castiel would be willing to hear.

“Ever think about quitting?” Dean asks bluntly, catching Castiel off guard. Whatever was going on Dean’s mind, Castiel would never guess it would be about this, their jobs, probably more about _Dean_ ’s job then Cas’.

“Not really,” Cas answers honestly, relieved when Dean doesn’t seem hurt by his answer. “Either way, I still have some ten years before I can start to thinl about retirement, so… Not like I could anyway.”

“Well, you could… You don’t wanna.” Dean says for him. Again, not sounding hurt and mad; Cas’s pretty sure there’s actually a shadow of a smile on his lips.

“I like my job,” Castiel admits, not feeling sorry. His eyes scan Dean’s face, looking for some kind of encouragement to keep the conversation flowing. He doesn’t find one, but since Dean’s still here in front of him and remains quiet, he takes his chances. “You’ve been thinking about it?”

“Every now and then, it’s no big deal.” He does a good job trying to act like is not a big deal, but Castiel knows him very well to see beyond that act. He shrugs slightly to not disturb his injured shoulder. “Can’t really think about it whilst Samuel is in the picture anyway.”

Dean walks away, now that he’s ready for breakfast, but Castiel stays. It’s the second time Dean implies his presence on the mob _because of_ Samuel. That causes a weird feeling inside of Castiel. He knows, from the little information Balthazar gave him, that Dean is the next to take the job and being the big boss. And Dean hasn’t denied any of the information Balthazar gave him, so Cas knows that to be true. It’s just… Dean seems to be showing a lot of mixed signals lately, or maybe they are very clear and Castiel just don’t want to admit.

He knows Dean’s brother, Sam, got away and Dean helped him. Sam is far away from them, being a lawyer and raising his kid away from all of the drama and danger, just like their mom wanted them. Whereas Dean… Castiel is not exactly a curious guy and he wants to respect Dean’s privacy, but that gets him wondering _how exactly_ did Dean helped Sam to get away from the mob. What did their agreement entailed and what it had to do with Samuel? Did Dean agreed to stay in the family whilst Samuel was in charge? Is Dean planning to leave once Samuel is out? Castiel wants to ask, but it doesn’t seem like Dean wants to really talk about it. Or feels ready to do so.

If Castiel had to guess, looks like Dean has been testing out possibilities in his head during his time away from the job. He knows his chances, where everyone stands regarding him. If Castiel had to guess, Dean is everyone’s favorite – he just had something about him that could win everybody over. So Dean was not only a wise choice, but also an obvious one. If he’s liked and respected, he could take over the world with their family. But Dean had been clear a year ago, he said he would always choose Castiel. Does that mean Dean doesn’t want the job anymore? Is he picturing every single possibility in his head? Trying to get themselves out of there safe and sound? Would Castiel’s love for his job the reason he would take the leadership? Just so Cas could be happy?

He has no doubt in his mind that Dean would definitely do something like that. And he hates that thought. He doesn’t want Dean settling for a crappy life just so Castiel can be happy on his job. Dean is not the only one in this relationship to give up his job over his partner.

What makes things worse is that Cas has no idea of what caused Dean to change his mind. A year ago they talked and, yes, he did say he would always choose Cas, but he also didn’t mind the job, the part he had in the family. From the very little Castiel saw, Dean was very good at his job. His attention to detail, and the way he cared about his men, how he would work every single mission to make sure everyone would leave safe and sound, with their delivery and no one being caught. Castiel was sure Dean would make a great FBI agent had he chosen another path. He has seen passion in Dean’s eyes whenever they are talking about their jobs – not oversharing, obviously – so he feels lost at this apparently sudden change of heart. Castiel is not even sure about how long this has been happening.

“You coming or what? I’m starving!” He hears Dean calling from downstairs and forces himself to stop thinking about that. Is enough that Dean gets lost in thoughts, Castiel doesn’t need to join him in that. He needs to wait. Wait for Dean to feel comfortable enough to share what has been going on in his mind. Wait until Dean makes a decision (or close to one at least) and decides to share with him. Sure, somethings must be decided together, but Castiel knows this is more complicated. “I’m starting without you.”

“Hang on! I’m coming.”

“No, you’re not.” Dean jokes and Castiel rolls his eyes. “Or are you? And didn’t even invite me to at least watch? You bitch.”

“Yeah, like I would make that mistake _again_.” Cas replies, joining his moody husband in the kitchen, where Dean struggles to unpack the bacon. “For the love of… Just give me that.”

~ * ~

Dean _hates_ to depend on other people, that’s why he gets so moody whenever he’s sick. And he hates being injured twice as hard, because he can’t even take a shower on his own. Not that he actually minds sharing a shower with Cas, but sometimes a guy needs his alone time. _Not that you’re gonna make good use of that, either_. But worse than that, being sick/injured with nothing else to do other than hang around the house watching TV or reading some random book gives his freaking brain an opportunity to think some things through. Things he avoids thinking about because he can’t give himself the luxury of that.

He’s well aware of the times he spaces out whilst watching something with Cas, or mid-conversation. There’s just some things, words and pictures Cas says and paints for him that gets him thinking about all of that. Remembering why he fell in love with this house, and the plan he pictured for it. His life with Cas, filled with laughter that didn’t only came from them. He hated that being hurt got him to think about ephemerality of life. _It was a fucking bullet to your arm, Winchester, get a grip!_

But being shot changes things. Even though it wasn't a life and death situation, Dean sees some things under a new perspective. He sees his relationship with Cas differently. Not bad, but different. He sees his wishes and what once he thought it was a dream, turning into something else entirely different. Maybe it wasn't much a dream, but something he felt like he _needed_ to do. It was only the obvious thing to do, what was expected of him.

Truth is, being shot wasn't scary; the perspective of staying in the hospital, needing surgery and not being able to have Cas by his side was. He couldn't even imagine, or bring himself to think about that. Being alone in the hospital, and Cas alone at home, probably going crazy blaming himself and bringing himself down with guilt and blame over what had happened. And Dean doesn't want that. He doesn't want to think about something worse happening - like a real life and death situation - and him and Cas being apart. He doesn't even want a life and death situation. He just wants his life, his marriage, his family. The _real_ family, with Cas, and Sam, and his wife and their little kid, maybe his own kid with Cas. He's tired of fighting a battle he doesn't even believe in, that he was obliged to be good at just so his brother could have his freedom.

And ever since all hell broke loose during his last assignment, ever since his afternoon lying on a hospital bed just hoping he wouldn’t need surgery and spend who knows how long in that place _without_ Castiel, he’s been thinking about all that shit again. And he can’t afford that. He wasn’t coming up with some soothing shit to calm Cas down when he said he couldn’t think about retiring whilst Samuel is still on the picture. Dean is a man of his word, and he’s gonna fulfil his end of the bargain. He had no regrets about his choices, what got him to where he’s today, but sometimes that sucked. Life sucked on its own and Dean could do nothing about it but wait.

That’s why he hadn’t shared anything with Cas yet, there’s no point in giving him hope, in painting such a beautiful picture and not being able to make it real in a few months. He knows Castiel wants to hear what he’s been thinking about so much, but he’s just not ready. There’s a lot to process, to think through so there’s no casualties, no risks for him and Castiel. Especially Castiel. Dean couldn’t care less about his own life, but he’d be damned if anything ever happened to Castiel because he was selfish enough to marry the guy.

He knows that, hadn't Cas shown up in his life, nothing would've change. But he did show up, and he fell in love, and they got married. Dean knows that Cas has expectations, his own dreams that he keeps sealed so Dean doesn't feel bad regarding the life he chose to live. They share dreams, they bought that house thinking about those dreams. And Dean knows, if things don't start to change, those dreams will never come true. And he won't allow that to happen. Cas deserves better, more than that, Dean is starting to believe that _he_ deserves better as well. He may not have a clean slate, but he knows is not as dirty as Samuel's or even Crowley's. If even them found a way around to have a family - even though they derailed a little bit - then Dean can also have that.

Knowing his mood won’t get any better if Castiel stays home, he convinces Cas to get back to work, and agrees with his request to spend at least one more week with Dean. Half of his time away on his own is not so bad, and he is enjoying having this time away from everything just him and Cas. If Cas is hurt about his persistence to spend some time alone, he doesn’t say or show.

That’s the best part about Cas, Dean thinks on his first day on his own. He understands him and he doesn’t push things too much. Cas knows Dean will share things with him whenever he’s ready. And Castiel is a fucking saint of patience for waiting for him. Honestly, Dean has no idea what a guy like Castiel is doing with an idiot like Dean, but he’ll take it, because he is selfish after all.

He will share all this thoughts, it’s not like ha has any hope of ever hiding anything from Castiel again. But before he actually thinks about this, he needs some ammunition to fully grasp what he’s going to deal with, and for that he needs some special help.

“So that’s the infamous Winchester-Novak House?” Charlie jokes as soon as Dean opens the door and gives her space to walk in, he instantly regrets inviting her over.

“Shut up,” he says, closing the door after checking no one followed her, basic instincts.

“No one is behind me. I didn’t start this yesterday, you know.”

“Can’t be too careful,” he shrugs. He trusts Charlie more than anyone else in that mansion, but he knows Samuel has some faithful men by his side still. Men that feed him gossips and has no trouble in remembering his granddad how close Charlie and Dean are.

“So, what am I doing here? Are you finally introducing me to your bae?”

“Keep on dreaming, Red,” Dean scoffs. He knows Charlie and Cas would get along just fine, better than expected, but he’s not ready to let more people in on his secret life. Sure, Charlie knows where he lives now and she has seen Cas in some pictures, but that’s enough. The less she knows, the better. And the same goes to Cas. “I need information.”

“Okay,” Charlie nods, getting her laptop out of her bag and following Dean towards the kitchen. “Wow! This place is massive, dude! What else are you hiding, Winchester?”

“Wanna see the dungeon?” Dean jokes. “That’s where I’ll put you if anything we discuss here today gets out.”

“Yeah, no thanks. I like my life. And I like you, so you can trust me. No one will know.”

“I know Charles. Wouldn’t call you here if I didn’t.”

“Good, so what am I looking?” Dean hesitates just for a brief moment, there’s a lot of things he wants to know, he just needs to narrow it down, one thing at a time.

“First, I need you to tell me about the list,” Dean asks, sitting on a stool in front of Charlie. She looks at him and tilts her head, he almost laughs, remembering Castiel doing the same thing. “The list of who’s gonna replace Samuel once he gets out.”

“Oh, right. Why do you think I have it?”

“Because _I know_ you have it. So spilled it.” Nothing passes by Charlie. People underestimate her all the time, she probably knows more about what’s happening then Samuel and the Old Men.

“You wanna confirm you’re in it? ‘Cause that’s pretty obvious.”

“I wanna know who else’s in it. After me, who’s their next choice.”

“Do I wanna know where you’re going with that?” Dean looks away, he can’t lie to Charlie, but he also doesn’t want to share with her his plans. He likes to think it’s quite obvious, and hopes she picks up on her own. Charlie sees something in him and just shrugs, respecting his silence – another saint in his life. “Okay, anyway… There isn’t much, really. Benny is pretty high up there, but they’re not certain if he has the authority, you know?”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t be good. I mean, he is a good guy, soldier type, and people like him. But he’s not a leader.” Dean thinks about it. “Who else?”

“There’s Rowena, but we all know they’re not gonna name a _woman_ to be the new boss. But she’s badass.” Dean has heard of Rowena’s work around the family, she mostly keeps to herself, but Dean has seen her working and the woman is fearless. “They like her, she’s quite funny actually… I think it’s the accent. And her name is strong, you know? They like her because she has connections, good ones.”

“The only reason they wouldn’t name her is because she’s a woman?” Dean asks, he’s not surprised, is a very sexist world the one he leaves in. Charlie nods. “But if she’s pointed by a person they trust?”

“Like you? Yeah, they’d probably consider…” Charlie stares at him for a while, biting her bottom lip, and Dean knows she’s putting the last pieces of the puzzle together. “You’re not staying, are you? As soon as he’s out, you’ll leave. Did Castiel ask you to do it? Is he forcing you to leave?”

“What? No, Cas has no idea I’m even thinking about this… We don’t talk about it.” Dean sighs and runs his hand through his face. “You know as well as I do the conditions of my contract there, Charles. The only reason I stayed…”

“To protect Sam, yeah, but Dean… I thought you liked it?”

“I do, I like it… But I _love_ my life with Cas. That’s not the life I wanna have with him. Things are hard enough as it is, can you imagine if I become the boss?” Dean hates thinking about that. There’s no doubt thinks will get exponentially more complicated. “I’m tired, Charles… Before him I… I never even dared to dream about the stupid white-picket-fence life, you know? But now? Damn, I want everything under the sun with him, and more if that’s possible.”

“That’s adorbs.” She smiles at him. Having known Dean for a great portion of his life, Charlie is probably the only one, other than Sam, who knows how hard life has treated Dean, how Castiel changed everything for the best. It doesn’t surprise him in the least that she doesn’t try to persuade him out of the plan, instead she supports him through and through. “So what’s your plan?”

“For now I just want information, I need to know who has a real shot at replacing Samuel.”

“So you know who you’ll have to talk to,” Charlie finishes for him, nodding her hand as her brain works on who knows what.

“How is Samuel by the way?” Dean hears himself asking.

“Not good, the guys are crazy mad at him,” Charlie tells. “Not that I eavesdrop or anything,” she winks at him and Dean actually smiles, “but rumor has it that they’re just gonna wait for you to return to take him off.”

“That’s not good… I thought they were gonna wait for him to die.”

“Like he’s gonna go that easy, not whilst you’re a valid option,” she says. “Maybe they are planning to shut him up somehow, but I don’t know about that.”

“And they’re gonna wait two more weeks? What for? So he screws up more?”

“And that’ll happen pretty soon, if you wanna know,” Charlie says, she types something on her laptop and then shows him something. Dean looks over, not having trouble recognizing their next mission and groans. He takes a quick look, easily identifying the failures of the plan.

“How can someone be so stupid? Who he’s gonna blame once this goes to shit?”

“Not you, he tried that with your last one and it was a big epic fail,” she tells Dean. He knows about that because some of his men told him that when Dean called to check in on his team. “He really underestimates everybody; you know? He thinks they don’t get the reports, they don’t see the numbers and the results.” Dean just nods. “It’s like he’s going crazy or something… Wanna know what was the shipment you got shot?”

“Do I?” Dean asks, already knowing he won’t like it. Someone tried to tell him whilst he was at the hospital, but Dean had managed to shut them up. If it’s not guns or drugs, it’s stupid no matter what.

“Apparently, he wants to refurnish the mansion, some expensive pieces of art this time,” Charlie tells. It takes everything inside of Dean to not yell in frustration. He wants to punch Samuel. Sure, he knew it wasn’t ammunition or drugs, but something as stupid as furnish and paintings? To make that whole operation? Putting people in danger for fucking statues? What the fuck is wrong with this guy? “Come to think about it, I don’t know how the Old Dudes will wait until you return to promote you… Or try to.” (It’s a real sign to how pissed off he is that Dean can’t even smile at Charlie’s way of referring to the actual men in charge).

That’s not good. Dean knows they won’t wait that long. Two weeks can pass by pretty quickly, but Dean knows from experience that in this case, they don’t. The next assignment will be tomorrow night and without him there to oversee, it’ll be a bloodbath and all definitions of everything going to shit. It’s not gonna work, Samuel is blinded by his frustrations over Dean, his lack of respect from the Old Men, from his own team and who knows what else. He can’t see things clear, and he can’t make rational decisions.

“Can you cancel tomorrow’s mission?” Dean asks, fearing for his men more than anything else. They had cleared their red ledger over the past year thanks to Dean, he didn’t want to taint it again.

“Above my paygrade,” Charlie says. Dean knows she _could_ but she won’t. There’s only one person other than Samuel that could get the cancelled order around and they all know it’s Charlie and her hacking skills. “I could send to the Old Dudes?”

“No, I don’t think they’ll see the catastrophe in time to stop… Either way, he would know it was you.”

“You know I don’t really care, right? I mean, if you’re not gonna be the next Captain, I’m probably out as well. Unless you can get Rowena, then I’ll consider sticking around.” Her eyes actually shine under the perspective of working alongside with a boss-woman, even Dean would get a kick out of it if he stops to think about it.

“Yeah, Charles, I know… But I won’t be there to protect you from him. And as much as I know you don’t need protection, you’ll need from him. He’s going mad, Charles, we can’t risk it. We’ll have to let it happen and let the Old Men deal with it.” She still doesn’t seem convinced, but nods anyway. “And I think you and Rowena would make a fucking good team. Double Red, double trouble. People won’t even know what hit them.” He wins her over and earns a shy smile from the redhead.

In the end, nothing really changes regarding where they started. Dean hates depending on other people, but he knows right now there’s no other way. All he and Charlie can and should do is lay low, wait for Samuel make his mistakes and the Old Men take over. While that happens, there are two more people he needs to talk to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooooo, what do you think? Will Dean get out? How is Cas gonna react to that? (Can we get some extra love for injured-struggling-with-a-sling Dean and our ever so patient Cas?)
> 
> This one was quite heavy, I tried to lighten the mood a little bit at the beginning, but other than that, there wasn't much. Next one still have some angsty, but is all for a good reason to give our boys their much deserved happily ever after.
> 
> I'll see you guys on Friday!
> 
> Love, blue 💙


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, my lovelies!
> 
> Happy Friday! I can't believe we're in October already, where has time gone?
> 
> Anyway... Shall we meet our favorite Scottish redhead, today? This chapter marks the end of our little angst, I hope you guys like it!

The house is big and pompous, matching perfectly its owner. Dean walks the short path to the door and rings the bell. A butler welcomes him, and guides him through a hallway until they reach another door. The guy knocks and they hear the go to for him to open and announce Dean. Is so royal it’s almost laughable, but it matches perfectly the personality of the woman sitting behind the desk.

“Dean Winchester.” Rowena says as soon as he walks in and the butler closes the door. Her red hair is pinned up, soft curls still falling down on her shoulders and back. He knows, even though she’s sitting, she’s wearing some fancy floor length dress. Today is very dark blue, with long sleeves. “It’s been a while, dearie.”

Rowena stands up and smiles at him, pointing at the chair by her desk. Dean smiles back and takes the sit. The two of them rarely met around the mansion, mostly on big events, but Dean had been avoiding those ever since he met Cas. He hated them anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal. He liked Rowena, and she seemed to like him back.

She had a good sense of humor, if a little dark. She owned every place she walked in and everybody respected her. It didn’t matter how tall she was – and man, was she short even with those ginormous high heels – or how funny, and kinda cute, her accent was. She had this energy around her that demanded respect. And no one would dare to give it to her; the woman was fierce.

She came to the family offering connections and Samuel obviously accepted, not taking into consideration the danger she could be. Dean had the pleasure of working with her one day, during a business lunch, and he was amazed at her skills. Everyone at the table had finished that lunch ready to throw themselves into burning flames if she asked to.

Ever since, the connections she brought to the table made her appealing to the Old Men. But the mob was known as a man’s world, so it was very unlikely she’d ever reach the top. Unless they join forces, and Dean knows he has a good shot here. Or maybe it’s just the fact that Rowena is his last hope. If all goes to shit during this meeting, he sees no other way to avoid his impending doom.

“What do I own the pleasure, sweetie?” She asked, offering him a glass with whiskey. Dean takes, even though he’s not supposed to given the fact he’s still taking pain killers for his stupid arm – he has been taking it less and less, but still, every now and then, his arm demanded some. A good thing about Rowena is that she doesn’t like to chit-chat, straight to the point, just like Dean. They are not friends, after all, there’s no room for such thing in here, it’s all business and nothing else.

“Samuel is going down,” he says, looking at her once she sits back in her chair. “And I’m the next in line.” As expected, she doesn’t look surprised. She’s well connected after all; she probably knows more than Charlie. Man, _that_ would be a power duo. Maybe he could convince Charlie to stay and Rowena to take her under her wing. Not that it would need much convincing given his last conversation with his best-friend.

“Yes, I am well aware of this, dearie.” Rowena says, offering him a tight smile. She’s happy about Samuel, hating him almost as much as Dean does. _Almost_. But not so happy about who’s up for next. Not that she doesn’t trust him, but it’s obvious she would rather be actually considered for the job.

“Well, then… We’ve talked in the past about our wishes,” Dean says, remembering some of the conversations he had with the woman. “We both share some despise regarding my grandfather’s leadership. And we both know we could do a better job.”

“Not that is hard,” she mocks and Dean smiles at her. “Spill it, boy.”

“I have a proposition for you.” Dean says. He’s confident but he’s still a little bit scared that maybe this could go wrong. Maybe Rowena could say no. If Dean changed his mind about the leadership, who’d say she didn’t either? Unaware of his inner doubts, Rowena adjusts herself on her desk, her posture more upright and serious. Her eyes fixed on him, almost like she’s trying to read him from inside out, baring his soul whether he wants it or not. She means business.

“I’m all ears.” She gestures her hand, a clear sign for him to spill everything, as she said before. Dean takes a deep breath, drinks the last of his whiskey and lays the glass on top of the cup holder.

“You know that once Samuel is out of the picture, I’ll probably be the next boss, right?” He asks, even though is a stupid question. Rowena just nods. “Well, I got some intel that you’re their next best option after me.” He reveals and is not surprised by the lack of reaction coming from the woman. “Some even consider that you are more qualified than I am,” Dean feels the need to add, so what if _he_ is _some_? “But because of sexism and all that shit, they’ll give it to me.”

Dean gives her some time to digest, Rowena remains quiet, seeming to think about what he just said. Her sharp eyes fix on him quickly and she just gives him a smile, probably thinking if he’s on the list of people who thinks she’s more adequate for the job. Or probably already knowing where he’s going with this.

“So?” She finally asks.

“So, when they offer me, I’ll refuse and suggest them to offer you instead.” Her expression doesn’t change at all, but Dean can see a shadow of surprise in her green eyes. Maybe she didn’t know where he was going with all that talk. Maybe she thought he would offer some partnership? They both be co-bosses? Is that a thing?

“Now why would you do that?” She asks him after a while. Her fingers move a few strands on her fringe, a clear sign of uncertainty Dean has seen before, during the dinner-parties they both attended, almost as if she’s trying to hide how pleased? No, proud? No, _honored_ , definitely that, of hearing him consider such proposition.

“I don’t want it. I never did.” Dean’s blunt honesty finally drags a reaction out of her, and Rowena smiles in amusement.

“Well, I must say you fake it very well.” She prompts him, leaning over to take a sip of her own glass. “You are the best, after all, from what I heard.” Dean knows what she’s talking about. He’s not known to take compliments, not that he doesn’t like them, he just doesn’t like what they’re highlighting. What _skills_ are being complimented.

“I’m only what Samuel wanted of me, what he built me to be.” Dean tells her, completely honest. He was a soldier, nothing else. “Now that he’s out, I don’t need to be that person anymore.”

“I see…” she smiles at him for a while. They remain in silent for another moment, Dean always respecting the woman’s time. He’s the one that needs her now, not the other way around – not that Rowena ever needed him, Dean has no doubt that she would fight tooth and nail for that position even without his recommendation. So he’ll wait as long as it takes. At last, Rowena takes another sip from her whisky and turns her green eyes back to him. “I feel that there’s more.” Obviously she would get that. Dean didn’t know why he was expecting her to ask more about his time with Samuel or his unhappiness with the job. No, Rowena cares nothing about all of that, she has eyes, she sees plenty. What the redhead wants is what is beneath all of that. Dean’s darkest most secretive secret. Well, not exactly _dark_ but definitely _very secretive_.

“Once you take over, I’m stepping out of the family.” Dean says and almost smiles at her surprised expression. Rowena is very proud of being able to keep a poker face no matter what. But in a matter of a couple of minutes, Dean had taken two very clear surprised expressions out of her. He continues, “I’ll buy my way out and you’ll promise me to let me go, no coming after me, sent men to try and kill me, keep an eye on me or whatever. You’ll leave me alone.”

He offers. He’s been saving money for a long time just waiting for this moment. He knows how things works, he knows that in reality there’s no actual way out of the mob, but there are ways around it. Sam got out because Dean stepped in and offered to stay by Samuel’s side. Sure, his grandfather would rather keep Sam, but Dean couldn’t handle being in the way of his little brother’s dream of going to college, having a family away from all of this. Dean had even forced Samuel to draw a contract stablishing that his brother would never be bothered by the family, no one would go out and look for him or threaten his family. Samuel hated every minute of that meeting, but he ended up signing the damn contract.

Now, he would like to believe that his relationship with Rowena is better than the one he has with Samuel. They actually like each other – at least there’s more _respect_ between them, that’s for sure. So Dean’s way out is offering her the position plus the money he knows it’s pretty much mandatory. And it’s not a small fortune, either. It’s strategic so people would feel discouraged to ask to leave. If was easy to leave, no one would stay, right?

He watches as Rowena thinks about his offer. She has seen the books; she knows the rules pretty well; she knows it’s a big amount of money Dean is offering. Not that she needs it, if her house is a sign of how well she’s doing for herself. There’s definitely a price for getting all the contacts she has to offer, and Rowena is not afraid to ask for it. If there’s a woman out there who knows her worth, that’s Rowena.

“Keep your money, my dear.” She says at last. “You’ll need to buy a good house for that boy of yours.” Dean’s stance changes in a matter of seconds, surprised by that revelation. Rowena just smiles and gestures away his worries. “Yes, yes, I do know things as well, you see. I don’t know why you’re so surprised” She winks at him, both a sign of them sharing intel and for him to trust her. Dean does trust her, but is still shocked. “I must say, quite rebellious of you to marry a federal agent, but I guess I can see the appeal. Does he know?”

There’s no point in trying to lie, since she knows even what he does for a living. Obviously, as she pointed out herself, Dean shouldn’t be _that_ surprised. Rowena is well connected, her job at the family is pretty much Public Relations. She probably knows at least one person in every high place.

“Yes, we know about each other for quite a while now.” Dean admits, liking the feeling of being able to talk to someone else, rather than Charlie and Sam, about Castiel. And he can’t help but smile for a brief moment, before going back to business. “I don’t intend on leaving town, though.”

“But you will.” Rowena demands, her voice and expression serious not leaving room for discussion. She leans over once again, bracing her arms on the surface of the table. “Look, Dean, sweetie, I have no problems with you. I would be more than glad to answer to you after that grandfather of yours says his last goodnight. And I do appreciate you trusting me to take over, I’m sure there are more options out there.” She’s not wrong, according to Charlie, but she’s the best option for Dean. “I’ll gladly accept your resignation letter without any extra cost. But we both know you can’t stay in town. _I’m_ willing to let you go, but others that could come after me may not.” She points out, and Dean has to give it to her. “Staying in town is a foolish act, darling. And we both know the Old Men won’t let that happen either. It will be hard enough to convince them to let you go no questions asked.”

He knew very well about that, this is where he was hoping the money would come in hand. But he also knows the Old Men won’t care about the money. They care about his value for the family, for the cause. But Dean didn’t want to leave town, not for him of for any attachment, but for Cas. He considered himself lucky enough that Cas was still married to him after they found out about each other, that he wasn’t in jail for that. And now forcing them to move town?

Sure, he wouldn’t force Castiel to do anything. It would hurt, but he would take anything Cas had to offer. If he wanted to try long distance relationship, if he wanted to kick Dean out of the door and keep the house… Dean would gladly take anything. Well, not _gladly_ , being away from Cas would be anything but a walk in the park – if Dean’s being honest, it would be his very own definition of Hell. But he would do anything his husband desires.

“I had to try,” he shrugs, offering Rowena her best smile. “Can you keep him a secret at least?”

“Of course I can… I kept all this time, haven’t I?” She asks with a knowing smile that Dean doesn’t want to know the meaning behind it. “Now, do you have anything else you’d like to discuss? Or would you like to put it in paper? Have your own insurance?”

“No need for paper, I trust you.” He assures her, but they have more details to discuss, that’s for sure.

~ * ~

He’s welcomed home with the smell of tomato sauce and lasagna. Dean is cooking, and not just that, he’s making his favorite dish. Dean has an injured arm and is cooking Cas’ favorite dish. And he knows for a fact that he probably made the lasagna from scratch, because Dean likes to spoil him.

 _Dean wants something_.

He did the same thing when he proposed, and again when he suggested them to buy the house. Castiel will always remember those two dates, him getting home with the smell of tomato sauce and lasagna fresh out of the oven. He’s surprised he didn’t smell the chocolate brownie, but maybe that’s for later. Or maybe that’s done already. Either way, he knows Dean is dotting him so he can ask something. Castiel doesn’t find in himself to be bothered by his husband’s antics, he _could_ say that Dean doesn’t need to go above and beyond to get what he wants. But then it would be more of Cas’ loss than anything else. Cas _really_ likes Dean’s homemade lasagna.

“Something smells good,” he says, joining Dean at the kitchen.

He’s removed the sling and manages to wear his right hand. It’s not advised, but Castiel is not really in the mood to pick a fight. He hopes Dean will behave the next couple of days. Honestly, for Castiel, just to see his husband somewhat back in the game and his usual behavior is very close to a blessing. Moody Dean is something he’s always avoided and now he remembers why.

“I just showered,” Dean jokes, leaning back so Cas can kiss him on the cheek without Dean having to stop steering whatever he’s cooking. Is he doing more tomato sauce?

“Did you raid a tomato orchard?” He asks, noticing the amount of tomatoes on the countertops.

“Went to see a friend of mine,” Dean shrugs, hissing softly when the movement causes his shoulder to sting. _That_ makes him hiss? Not steering tomato sauce for who knows how long? “They looked way too good for me to not take up on her offer.”

“Is this your new job, then? You’ll sell tomato sauce?” Castiel asks, he gives Dean another kiss, on his neck now, and moves away so the man can move more freely. He grabs a bottle of water on the fridge and drinks whilst Dean finishes whatever he’s doing and turns to him.

“Could be,” he says, his attempt at nonchalant too forced for Castiel ignore. Castiel just quirks one of his eyebrows. There it is, the second sign of Dean wanting something.

“Will you reveal what it is you’re trying to tell me before or after dinner?” Castiel asks, finding it better for his husband to know that he knows he’s up to something. Dean just looks down, smiling at himself and nodding his head, probably arguing with himself for trying to trick Castiel and failing.

“Can it be later? Really wanted us to have a nice time,” Dean asks, green eyes looking back at him. He sounds nervous, which makes Castiel worry, but he’ll give in to him.

“Sure… How’s your day?” Castiel goes for a safer path then, if Dean doesn’t want to talk now, he can wait. He’s waited all this time, what is a few more minutes?

“Quite alright,” Dean steals the bottle and drinks some. His lack of detail is a clear sign that maybe his day has something to do with they’re going to talk about later. So not such a safer path as Cas thought.

“Do I know this friend of yours?” Castiel asks, he’s not sure if Dean is back in touch with his mob buddies.

“Used to be my therapist when I was a kid,” Dean tells. “She’s a good friend of my old man. I’ll go see her every now and then, just checking in, you know?” Still cryptic, but he’ll take it. “She knows about you, though. Almost broke my other arm when I told her, but that’s okay.”

“We’re starting to tell people about us?” Cas asked, not annoyed, just amused. He really thought the only person that would know about them would be Sam and his wife.

“No really,” Dean grimaces, concern suddenly clouding his eyes. “Are you mad? I didn’t want to tell her, but I was with the ring and she’s almost psychic, you know? For sure it helped during our appointments. So I couldn’t really lie to her.”

“I’m not mad, just curious,” Castiel frowns again, their conversation doesn’t sound natural. It’s like, even though Dean wants to wait, he’s not comfortable with his own decision either. “Dean?” Green eyes stared at him, mixed with confusion, hope and… Is that _fear_? “What’s going on?”

He is scared, but he tries to act neutral. Dean’s been doing a lot of thinking lately and shared very little with him. Castiel respects because he knows how conflicting their situation is; _he_ has trouble with their _not-sharing_ about their lives sometimes. He can imagine what Dean is suffering with whatever he’s been mulling over the last few days. Castiel knows it’s related with his family and not them, so he’s not completely worried. But he hates that there’s probably nothing he can do to help Dean. Their secret relationship is a pain in the ass sometimes.

Dean sighs and run his hands through his hair and face. He turns to check on the oven and his sauce before turning back to Castiel.

“I know you don’t consider quitting your job, and I would never dream of asking you to do that,” Dean assures him, Cas nods. He has no idea of what path he should follow here, maybe it’s quite obvious, but he just can’t or is refusing to see it. “But would you consider moving out? Request to be transferred?”

Understanding downs on him. Castiel may not know much about mob, but he has watched enough movies to get the gist of it. And now that he understands what is going on inside that pretty head of his husband, he almost curses himself for not seeing it before, for taking this long to realize.

 _Dean wants out_. He doesn’t want the higher position, the leadership. He wants to leave. Castiel is not sure of what to do with this information. Should he hug Dean? Kiss him? Try to talk him out of it? Dean seemed to love his job, but then again… Dean was the first to say he would choose Castiel if necessary when they found out about each other. So maybe he doesn’t love what he does that much – even though he’s amazing at that.

His question is genuine. He’s clear about _his_ wishes. He won’t ask Castiel to choose, and he knows that Cas isn’t making him choose either. Whatever is happening, is by Dean’s choice. But he wants to know where Castiel would stand. And his first instinct is to say yes, it’s not like there’s only one office for the FBI in the USA. But even so, he thinks it through. What would this entail? Where would Dean choose to go? Does _he_ have a choice?

“I’m not saying yes… But _if_ I did, do you have a location?” Castiel asks, just so he has more information. He is not making a decision without considering all the possible scenarios available for him. Dean is giving him a choice, and Castiel honestly falls in love for his husband a lot more because of that. Obviously, there was no doubt in his mind that Dean would ever force something on him. He would always consider Cas’ intake on decisions regarding _their_ life as a couple. Cas has no doubt that Dean would even accept a divorce if Cas desired so.

“I wanted to be closer to Sam, you know?” Dean says, Castiel can understand. He has no idea of where Sam lives, but he knows it must be some big city. Dean was always proud of the fact that he gotten in a big fancy university. “Thought about Phoenix first, but I don’t know how’s the action around there and I don’t want you to regret if you decide to say yes. So there’s also Sacrament, it’s closer to Sam, that’s for sure.”

He’d never imagined Dean living in California, but he also knows some people from Phoenix, having worked together in past cases, and he didn’t like the environment. Phoenix is bigger and more problematic. Sure, Chicago is not a walk in the park, and maybe that’s why, if they need to move, Castiel would be more inclined for a quieter place. Anywhere he goes, he knows there’ll be a lot of work anyway. It’s more about the city than anything else.

“Will you give me more details?” Castiel asks, he doesn’t feel ready to give an answer right now. If Dean is giving him more to think about, then he’ll gladly take it. If not, it that’s all, Cas will accept as well.

“Wanted to tell you everything,” Dean reveals and Castiel not even tries to hide his surprise. “Give you the explanation I own you since… The beginning probably, but I’ll say since last year.”

“You owe me nothing, Dean,” Cas assures him even though he knows it’s useless. “But I’ll gladly hear whatever you have to say. _After_ dinner.” He wants to hug Dean when he sees his shoulders relaxing, but just gives him an assuring smile knowing his husband pretty well by now. Dean doesn’t need, _now_ , his touch, just Cas’ assurance that he’ll listen, he’ll think about it and take whatever he has to say into consideration before making a decision.

It’ll certainly be a long night for the looks of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, what do you guys think? What do you think about Dean's plan? Will Cas accept his idea of moving out?
> 
> After what we saw of Rowena on S15, it was quite obvious for me who should be the one after Samuel. This woman deserves to be Queen of the entire universe, honestly lol.
> 
> Next chapter is the last one and is more a epilogue than anything else. I wish I could post it today, but I'm still not sure about it, so I'll try and edit it on the weekend so is ready to go up for you guys on Tuesday (I'm also not supposed to be here since I now have tendonitis and the doctor asked me to rest my wrist lol, nice try, doc).
> 
> Anyway, I'll see you guys on the next one! Don't forget to leave a comment or some kudos, telling me what you thought of this chapter and what do you expect for the next one!
> 
> All the love, blue 💙
> 
> Also, if you want, come follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bfairytale_fic), I promise I'm a nice person 🙃


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We go four years in the future to see how our boys are doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, lovelies!
> 
> Here we are for our last chapter! I almost didn't manage to post this one today, because, after all, my doctor had the last laugh and my tendonitis got a lot worse before it got better and only today was I able to sit down and edit this one and add what I felt was missing.
> 
> Sooo, I'm apologize in advance because the second part of this chapter is unbeta'd, since I just wrote and I didn't want to not post the chapter today. If you find any mistake, please feel free to point it out to me so I can fix it (so sorry as well if it seemes to have some inconsistencies between both parts, my way of seeing it is the different perspectives of how Dean and Cas saw the changes in their lives lol, but is just me writing one part almos two weeks agos and the other five minutes ago lol - I promise to go back and fix something if I find it, you can also point it out to me in case you find it first).
> 
> Anyway, after I started the second part, I actually found really hard to stop (I almost thought I was gonna have to add another chapter to the final count lol), so I really hope you enjoy it!

“Papa, again!”

Castiel hears the screams at the back of the house and an instant smile comes to his lips. He leaves his bag on the same place as ever, takes of his shoes and the jacket he’s been dreading the entire day. It’s hot as hell in Sacramento and he hates the fact that he chose a job that requires him to wear a freaking suit all day. It’s not as bad inside the office thanks to the AC blasting, but lately Castiel doesn’t get many opportunities to stay inside, with his latest case demanding him to be on the streets from start to finish.

Laughter travels inside the house and warms his heart. He follows the sound, barefoot, feeling the cold of the floor helping to alleviate some of the excessive heat. He makes a quick stop in the kitchen to grab himself and his husband a beer each, and then proceeds to the back of their house, where said husband and their almost four-year-old daughter are making good use of the water slide Dean bought a few weeks ago.

Alex screams at the top of her lungs as Dean pushes her, making her slide faster than normal. It should be considered dangerous, but he knows Dean is extremely careful and would never do anything to purposefully harm their daughter. The girl reaches the end of the slide and looks over, her wet body rolling on the grass causing some leaves to stick to her skin, an even bigger smile – if that’s possible – parting her lips when she sees Castiel.

“Daddy!” She squeals, getting up and running towards him. Castiel doesn’t care she’s all wet, full of leaves sticking on her skin and probably ruining his suit, is Friday anyway, he won’t need to wear another one of these anytime soon. He picks her up and allows her to give him a quick peck on the lips before starting to tell him about their day.

It’s the last few weeks of summer before school starts, so she and Dean are making the most of it. And every day they do something different, because _Alex_ gets bored easily – that’s what Dean says anyway, and they both know _someone_ gets bored and that is not the four-year-old-very-easily-entertained girl.

Their move to Sacramento went by a lot easier and faster than Castiel anticipated. Not even three months after their long talk, where Dean told him the rest of his life story, and they were free to go. Samuel had been taken care off – neither he or Dean wanted to know what happened, Dean only assured him his granddad was still alive. Rowena took over, starting the MacLeod reign, as Dean put it, “ _it sounds so much better than Campbell as well_ ”, his husband had told him.

He finally met Charlie, Sam and his wife, Jessica, as well as their daughter, Grace, and their newborn, Henry. Dean assured him everyone was safe and sound and they didn’t have to worry about someone coming after them. Not even the Old Men had made a big deal out of him leaving. Dean was good, but Rowena was better for them they had to agree.

Even with Dean’s constant assurance that they were safe, it took him a while to get used to that, and that’s why it took them a while to venture in the adoption world. Castiel wanted to be sure they were safe and, most important, their kid would be safe. It took Charlie coming over all the way from Chicago to assure him, looking him in the eye, that if anyone ever dared to touch a single hair of theirs it would be their end. Everything about their lives was completely off the books and it was as if Dean has never existed or set foot at the old Campbell mansion.

And just a year after their arrival they started the adoption process. Dean was getting very annoyed at his apparent inadequacy for the business world. A mechanic job was not for him – he thought he liked cars, but them he realized he liked _his_ car, _his Baby_ , and he didn’t care to spend an entire Sunday under her hood, but all day every week under someone else’s car? No, thank you. And Dean Winchester would rather die or go back to the mob, before he worked at some boring office job – _“No, Cas, your work is not boring, most of the time you’re in the streets chasing bad guys, your office hours are very low and we both know it”_. And obviously he wouldn’t even there to step inside a precinct or FBI agency. Not only he was still on some very serious lists (even though Charlie had been working on getting him out of those), but he had seen enough tragedies and death in his short life to engage in more of those. Killing wasn’t on the job description, but it was, eventually, inevitable.

Besides, given his most recent _activities_ , they realized Dean was pretty much unemployable. If his background check didn’t flag at the company considering to hire him, it could flag _somewhere_ else – like the FBI, or any other agency, or someone from the family. Sure, he had cut ties and left in good spirits – Rowena putting a good word for him and the Old Men agreeing without much fuss to let him go. Samuel’s contract seemed to help a lot, since the Old Men didn’t like at all the idea of buying someone else’s freedom. They could be old, but they weren’t old fashioned. Every marriage was just as where every admission: willingly. But still, even though Samuel was out of the picture – Dean had no idea of what happened to him, but they knew he was alive – he still had some loyal men inside the family. Rowena and Charlie were working together to take these people out, but that didn’t mean Dean was out of the hook. So lay low was everything he had left for a while. The adoption process had been the only risk he was willing to take, and that took some time and effort. _A lot of effort_.

For Castiel, that was a concept hard to accept at first. He would hack his brain trying to find something, _anything_ , Dean could do. Castiel was worried for a while, thinking Dean would grow resentful of not doing anything and, eventually, having to resign to becoming a stay-home dad. Somehow, Castiel couldn’t grasp that concept, seeing his husband stuck at home and doing nothing else with his life other than care for his family – even though Dean was constantly assuring him that that was exactly what he wanted.

It took them a very heated _conversation_ – Castiel being very frustrated at his husband’s apparent indifference towards getting a job – for Dean to finally blurt out his actual thoughts on the entire matter. In his defense, he never thought that Cas would be so persistent on the subject, and it wasn’t as if he didn’t want to tell the truth, but he thought it wasn’t so important as Cas seemed to think so.

“Cas, sunshine, I’m fine!” Dean said, interrupting Cas’ speech he knew by heart at this point.

“But… How?”

“I have everything I’ve always wanted but never dared to dream until I met you, Cas,” Dean told him, his face blushing at the admission. “I have you, this house, Sammy back and his family… Only thing missing is the kid, and we’re already working on it, and that was exhausting enough to get, cashing all those favors I never thought I’d need to go after. Plus, all the help from Charlie and Rowena.” Cas felt his insides warmer, and his stomach taken over by butterflies. “I’ll be a stay-at-home dad, or a soccer dad… Whatever. I’ll bake or I’ll cook, and maybe I’ll try and sell my stuff at the Farmer’s Market, like Jody and Donna keep bugging me about. Jody even said that she has a booth and customers for whenever I decide to do it.” Dean’s green eyes earn a glimmer of gold as he tells Cas about his plans for the future. “I’m… I’m _happy_ , Cas. I don’t need a fancy or boring or fancy _and_ boring job to complete anything else. I still have money left, you still bring some good income, we’re not fancy…”

“And you’re really okay with it?”

“Yes, Cas!” Dean smiles. Castiel is not really sure on how he isn’t mad at him yet. Dean is not known for being the most patient person. “I swear I’m god, babe.”

Castiel wasn’t really convinced, but when their daughter, Alex, joined their family, he got to see first-hand everything Dean was trying to show him all this time. Dean seemed in his element being a stay-at-home dad, like he was born to do it – Cas knew it better, and gave all the credits for him having to take care of Sam from a very early age, when their dad was lost in grieve and then in booze.

It didn’t take long after that for Alex join their family, and after getting her into a routine – about six months later – and used to them, Dean gave in to Jody and Donna’s insistence and tried to sell something at the Farmer’s Market. Needless to say it was a success, and he had actually to dial it down a little so he would have time to have enough produce to sell. His jams were a big hit, as were his pies – _that_ was a big surprise, since Dean liked to experiment, and somehow he always found a way to make the flavors match perfectly. He had tried to sell some bread, and it was good, but he didn’t find it fair to go against Donna – and Dean would never dare to say that his bread was better than hers, even though some people that had tasted both said that it was.

The Farmer’s Market happened every weekend, but with the amount of orders and having to take care of a four-year-old, and keep the house in order, Dean would go there – to sell – only two weekends. As a costumer he would go every weekend, always buying a little bit from every booth and always giving a chance for every newcomer.

Alex came to them a day after her first birthday, now they’re on the verge of celebrating her fourth birthday, and her third year with them. Three years in these crazy routine and never once did Cas saw Dean complaining, all the contrary, he would feel personally offended every time someone tried to imply that Cas did very little to help, and/or Dean should take some time off.

And it didn’t take long for Dean to bring her and _help_ him to do all the jam and pies. At night, Dean would tell Cas that she was a natural – like him – at the mixing and finding the perfect combinations. She was more adventurous, like every kid at her age normally is, and daring him to try some very exotic combinations. Not all of them would work, obviously, but the day Dean would learn to say no to their daughter is very distant.

Moments like those, when Dean tells them about their day, or when he sees Dean selling his stuff at the Farmer’s Market, or when he sees Dean interacting with others vendors, or sees Dean cleaning up after Alex is in bed and Cas is resting on the couch – by Dean’s order – is when Castiel sees how true everything Dean told him was. He’s the happiest man alive, even more than when they were living in Chicago.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean says, approaching him. He’s all wet, his shorts clinging to his hips and looking as sinful as ever. His smile grows bigger when he notices Castiel looking at him, and the bastard winks before he leans for a quick kiss. “Hey, troublemaker, go put away your toys.”

Alex goes down and runs to do as Dean asked her too. Allowing the two of them to proper kiss. Castiel feels warm and full, a feeling he’s grown more than used to feel whenever he gets home and hears Dean and Alex messing around. For a brief moment he felt jealous of their relationship, but it all came down to choices. He was working long hours when she first arrived, and was just too tired over the weekend. Once he and Dean had a long conversation about it, and Dean pointed out what was technically wrong, Castiel worked to fix it. He still didn’t have much time with Alex the same way Dean has, but he makes due. Quality over quantity, as Dean told him time and time again.

“So… Sam and the remaining Winchesters are coming over tomorrow for some lunch. I talked to Sam today, and Grace was crazy to come over and go on the water slide.” Dean asks him, picking up a towel to dry himself and waiting for Alex to finish her task to dry her before they walk home. “Is it okay?”

“Of course it is, Dean,” Castiel smiles, every Friday his husband would ask him the same question, and everytime Cas would give him the same answer. It was a little tradition now, Sam, Jess and their kids would come to spend the day either on Saturday or on Sunday, every now and them, especially during summer, they’d come on both days. He thought he was okay with just the two of them back in Chicago. But now that they constituted their small family, joined by Sam, Jess and the kids, he feels complete. Charlie drops by every once and a while, but with Rowena following in Dean’s advice and taking her under her wings, the girl has been working a lot.

“How was your day?” Dean asks, even though he probably already knows the answer, since it’s been the same for a few weeks now.

“Hot,” Castiel replies and Dean laughs. Alex runs to them, getting the towel and trying to dry herself over Dean’s attentive eyes. “I can’t wait for summer to be over… Or my retirement.”

“It’s all about choices, Cas,” Dean smiles at him. “Come on, pumpkin, inside. Tomorrow we’ll play more.”

“Daddy, you’ll play tomorrow?” She asks Cas, blue eyes fixing on him as they walk inside the much cooler house.

“Of course, I will. How was your day?”

As usual, Alex takes over the conversation, narrating everything she and Dean did all day. Castiel knows everything, because of the constant text between him and his husband, but it never tires him to hear her babbling excited. She also makes plan for their morning the next day, and once again tries to talk him – and Dean – to buy and plant a new tree. They both now is just a matter of time until she actually wins the argument, and Cas won’t say to Dean, but maybe he’s doing some research already on what to buy to add to their little garden.

The evening passes by as usual, they have dinner, put Alex to sleep and then spend a lovely time siting outside, enjoying a beer, the lovely warm night, and each other’s company. It feels domestic, comfortable… It feels like home. Castiel never gets tired of this feeling, and he knows Dean feels the same.

“So… I was thinking,” Dean breaks their silence. His fingers playing with Cas’ where their hands rest in between them on the bench outside. Castiel frowns, feeling Dean’s nervousness.

“Yes?” Castiel encourages him to keep going.

“How do you feel about adding another little one to this house?”

Dean looks at him, green eyes soft and hopeful, and Castiel smiles.

Everything feels _perfect_.

~ * ~

Four years ago, Dean had proposed to Cas for them to leave Chicago and move to the other side of the country. He bought his way out of the Campbells – not that there was much left of the family after Samuel was taken care of and Rowena stepped up to the higher position – and all parties involved promised him he would not be bothered, as long as he kept his end of the bargain: leave and not come back unless requested to do so. Cas accepting the change and assured Dean he would follow him to the ends of the Earth made things a lot easier, and if he got to be closer to his brother, who was extremely happy with that as well, then that was just an added bonus.

It wasn’t exactly easy, the move, adapting to a new city, new weather, new house… New life on its own. But Dean was sure he had it done a lot better than expected. Cas was at home in any FBI bureau. What bothered his husband the most was Dean being unemployable, much to Dean’s amusement. It seemed pretty alien to Cas the fact that Dean was actually pretty happy not having to work for a while.

He finally would have time to pave his own path – not that that was easy, it was actually kinda of a pain in the ass to find himself. Dean was as lost as expected once he saw himself free from the Mafia. He decided to take some time off to “find himself”, as Charlie and Sam mocked him so often, and at the end of said time – not as long as Castiel thought it would be, Dean was a very impatient person after all – he realized he was pretty good and happy as it was.

Now he had time to cook and bake, something he loved but couldn’t do much before; he could work on the house they had bought, he could create the perfect garden for Cas to grow his plants and create his bees. He could have Sundays roasts on the backyard with his husband, his brother and his little family – Jess, Grace and their newborn Henry. He could actually be the cool uncle and spoil his niece and nephew, flirt with Jess and annoy the hell out of Sam.

Even better, Dean soon realized, he and Cas could go out and enjoy a nice day, have picnics, go to the beach, and just be husbands for the first time without the fear of being caught. They could openly dream about their future, not needing to be cautious, they could discuss how they would add another member to their family – not as easy as it sounded, given Dean’s background, but they made it work thanks do Charlie and Rowena.

They could have friends, and they had made some once Dean started to attend the Farmer’s Market – both as a customer and later as a vender. Jody and Donna quick became party of their little group. And it didn’t take long for Cas to bring his new partner, Hannah, for dinner during the week. It was still a very small group, but neither Cas or Dean cared about that. Specially for Dean, after the life he had lived for so long, it was hard to trust people, to let go of basic instincts and trust someone else entirely. The less people they had to lie or hide his true background, the better.

Alex came to their lives about a year and half after they got there. Dean was sure it would be sooner had Charlie not needing to interfere and create a whole new life for him. She hadn’t changed much, in fact, she had been working on cleaning up his slate with Rowena’s help. Apparently, there was a lot in Dean’s file that didn’t actually belonged to him, but Samuel and Crowley would throw in there so their files could be as clean as the circumstances allowed.

Dean had never requested Charlie to do such thing, that’s why they received Balthazar’s call with such surprise. Cas’ former partner called him one day to share the odd occurrence of Dean Winchester’s file being so clean out of nowhere. Dean tried to encourage Cas to tell his former partner the truth, but Cas decided against, “it’s in the past now, Dean, there’s no need to tell him now, it’d do no good.” And Dean respected that.

With his somewhat cleaner background, Dean felt more confident about bringing a kid to their lives. Not needing to fear the kid one day founding out about his true past it was a huge relief.

Alex had just celebrated her first anniversary when they met her, and it was love at first sight. Blue eyes, dark hair, she had Castiel written all over her even though he was nowhere near when she was conceived. It was the perfect match, everyone thought, and she connected with them surprisingly easy – the surprise came more from the social worker, a lovely woman called Patience. Apparently they had tried to find a family to Alex earlier, but she never adapted to them. Not the way she had with Dean and Castiel at least.

From day one was like the girl had been completely enamored by the both of them. Her first full on giggle coming from Dean playing with her. Her first word being “da”, one day when she requested Cas to pick her up. Up until then, she just babbled all along, but no full, complete words, had been pronounced. And all it took was this one for her to elaborate her own vocabulary. Cas became “daddy”, and Dean was “papa”, by her own choice, neither of them choosing so, but accepting nonetheless.

She was funny, smart and witty. She had mannerisms from both of her dads, causing a lot of their friends to joke about them finding a way to actually procreate without the help of a woman. Whenever she got under the sun a little too much, her skin would gain a more intense blush and little freckles would pepper her skin, much like what happened to Dean. Her hair was as all over the place as Cas was, she had a cheekiness to her that resembled a lot like Dean. She loved and ate her vegetables as much as she downed pies and all the greasy foods. All in all, at the end of the day, she was the best parts of both of them. A perfect balance of their personalities and traits.

And since Dean had decided against finding a job, and being a stay-at-home dad, it didn’t take much for Alex to be as in love with cooking and baking as her papa was. Castiel had gifted them both matching aprons and even a chef’s hat. Her boldness helped Dean to expand his horizons on his recipes, and the man would give their daughter all the credits for their craziest inventions.

The whole baking process had started slow, as a matter of fact. It was a lot more of a stress-bake/stress-cooking than anything else. Not surprisingly, it started when they started the adoption process. Not knowing what they would find out about their past, how the interviews where going to happen, and if they would be trusted enough to have a child under their care, gave Dean a lot of anxiety and after tossing and turning in bad one night, he got up, went to the kitchen and started to bake.

He started with pies, since those were the ingredients he had at hand. He would cook at three in the morning, but he wouldn’t leave his house to go to a 24-hour grocery store to buy more stuff. He wasn’t _that_ desperate, he could wait to go on a more normal hour. Castiel didn’t question him, actually finding some relief on his husband finding a way to de-stress that didn’t involve him being awake all night – Cas still had to work, after all.

But pretty soon, just pies weren’t enough, and Dean was completely enamored by the idea of making jams. He remembered his mom used to make them when he was a kid, and he decided he was gonna try and test that. In a matter of days, an entire cupboard of their kitchen was taken over by jars and not one empty glass jar would be put to waste anymore. Dean would take it all.

Cas would mock him saying he can’t remember anymore a time where their house didn’t smell like fruits – at least it wasn’t nauseating. Dean didn’t care, a lot of houses smelled like baked cookies, bread or cake, theirs would be jam. Truth is, Dean found very therapeutic the whole process of making jams. He would still bake pies, even attempt baking some bread, but jam was what soothed him. From the more traditional ones to mixing a wide variety of fruits and their flavors. This is the part where Alex’s boldness would come in hand. She liked to experiment, a little scientist working the different substances, mixing them and finding the perfect match.

Now, standing in their kitchen, waiting for a new batch of orange and strawberry jam, Dean smiles as he looks to their backyard from the kitchen window. Cas is wearing a once-upon-a-time white shirt, and shorts, his hands are dirty, and so is a lot of parts from his body, every time he rubs his hand against his skin. Last night, during their weekly visit to the garden center, they had finally given in and allowed Alex to convince them to buy a passion-fruit tree, that would stand _perfectly_ – according to the little one – next to their lemon tree, the both of them were working together now to plant the tree. Alex was as dirty as her daddy, if not more, and Dean was already looking at the garden hose, by the back door, hoping neither of them will forget to at least clean up _some_ of the dirty before walking in.

Not that they’re going to do that now, either way, apparently there are some strawberries ready for picking, as well as tomatoes and some peppers. Dean hopes they pick some peppers, because they look perfect for their jam – people had been asking for some pepper jam, maybe he could mix with some of the strawberries, he thinks, quickly writing it down before he forgets. From where he’s standing, there seems to be some lemons ready for picking, and he could make a delicious pie to take to the Farmer’s Market next weekend.

The smile only grows when he hears Alex’s excited squeal once they finish planting the tree. The same way she fell in love with cooking and baking with Dean, gardening was a passion she cultivated with Cas. And even though Dean understands enough about gardening, he still lets that for the both of them – the same way Cas leaves her with Dean whenever they’re cooking and getting things ready for the Farmer’s Market. Even when Dean knows there’s fruits and vegetables to pick, he waits for Cas to do them with Alex. She even has her own little basket where they throw their produce. Much to their delight, she stays away from the bees, absolutely terrified of them after one stung her on her three-year birthday. She liked honey, but she wouldn’t get near the little box, that was all for Cas – because, yes, neither Dean would get close to them.

“Papa, look!” Alex called him, pointing at their tree. She had just stuck a little tag in front of the tree, detailing what tree was and, obviously, what was her name. Alex had baptized every single thing they planted in the garden, neither he or Cas knew where she got so much imagination, but that was okay. At least she didn’t get upset when they mentioned the plant by their actual name instead of the one she gave.

“Looks awesome, sweetheart,” Dean says to her, her smiling almost blinding. They did choose a good tree; Dean was already dreaming about the recipes he could do with the fruits. “Don’t forget to pick some peppers, okay?” He asks when he sees her going for her basket. Alex gives him a loud sigh, as if she’s heard that a million times, even though Dean only requested peppers once before.

“Hey, now,” Cas says, and Dean has to hold back a smile once he sees her blushing, probably was hoping she wouldn’t get caught or wouldn’t be disciplined. More often than not, she isn’t, since that’s pretty much what _Dean_ does, and it seems very hypocritical to call her up on something she learned from him directly. But Cas still tries, Dean’s a lost cause, Alex still can learn, or so he says whenever Dean mocks him for not given up already.

He gets his attention back to his sauce pan and turns off the heat, seeing his jam is already perfect. A quick glance towards the clock says they’re still on time before Sam and family arrives for their lunch. Is a hot day outside, as ever, and they are enjoying the best of the last weeks of summer before both Alex and Grace go back to school. Dean is already facing some anxiety imagining his days without their daughter to keep him company. Unlike pretty much every dad out there, Dean absolutely hates the beginning of a new school year.

At least he knows the tradition of having Sam, Jess and the kids over will probably never end. Sam and Jess live in a nice house, but too small and with no space outside for big gatherings, or any kind of gathering for that matter. And given Dean’s last summer purchase, his house had become a big hit, especially for his niece that had left their house last weekend with a lot more bruises than considered normal. But Grace and Alex were unstoppable whenever they were together and had a water slide at their disposal.

“Look, papa! We have blackberries!” Alex screams, running towards the kitchen door bust stopping shortly, just to give a blackberry to Dean. He crouches down a picks the fruit, tasting it and smiling as the sweet flavor takes over his mouth. “Is it good?”

“Is very good, do you want to try?” He asks, seeing she has a few more in her hands. She had tasted blackberry jam, but haven’t had the opportunity to taste the actual fruit. Dean and Cas are always encouraging her to try, and they both now the little garden helps her to be more adventurous. Alex smiles and nods, choosing a berry in her hand and popping in her mouth. Her face gets a serious frown, much like how Cas does whenever he’s thinking about something, and very slowly she starts to smile.

“Is delicious! Can we make jams with it?” She asks.

“Do you think we have enough?” Dean asks, looking over to where the blackberries were planted and trying to see if they’d have enough for jam. Probably not enough to sell yet, but for their own consumption, must be enough. “Or maybe we can try and make some pie?”

“We did pie yesterday,” Alex complains. She likes pies, but not as much as Dean. “I’ll see with daddy.”

“You do that, pumpkin,” Dean encourages, getting up before stealing another blackberry from her hand. From the look Cas has on his face, it won’t be enough for a good jam, Dean tries to think of something else they could do that doesn’t involve pie. “Don’t forget the lemons, as well.”

“On it! Daddy, put me on your shoulders!” Alex asks excited, pretty much her favorite part of picking fruits on trees, how high she gets when put on Cas’ shoulders. She has a little stool that Dean made for her himself, but if she has two giant daddies, then she needs to take advantage of that – or so Charlie taught her.

From the kitchen door, Dean watches as Cas puts her on his shoulders and Alex squeals excited. Cas goes through the same routine of playing around, always holding her tight to prevent any accident, and they have fun picking up lemons and apples, before proceeding to their others plants.

Dean feels a warmth involving him that has nothing to do with the excessive heat. It’s something completely different and he’s sure he’ll never get sick of that. Hearing Cas and Alex laughing away during one of the most mundane activities ever, watching her run excited around their garden, experimenting their produce, coming to him and inviting him to share. Knowing that in just a couple more hours, his brother will knock and enter through his door as if that is his and his family second house.

Looking over at the calendar and seeing he and Cas have a meeting with Patience this week to start a new adoption process. The prospect of increasing their family, adding a new member, giving Alex a brother or sister – although she claimed she wants a sister, because _boys are boring_ , and God, does Dean hopes she thinks that for a _long_ time.

Sure, the idea of adoption had kinda of came almost out of nowhere, but he was glad that Cas was on board, thinking they’re very well stablished – a lot more then when they went through that with Alex – and they still had a spare room that had no use for them – it was supposed to be an office for Dean, but since he gave up the idea of having a job, it was just full of boxes they were too lazy to carry to their basement and store properly. Now it would be a new project for Dean for when the school is back and he had more time in his hand, since he won’t have to run around the house entertaining a four-year-old.

Dean can see perfectly whenever he closes his eyes. The four of them running around the garden, the kids picking up fruits and vegetables, the two of them helping him with the cooking. Christmas dinners filled with child laughter; the tree surrounded but copious amount of presents. The house a mess, that Dean would happily clean because that means a dream come true, a life he always wanted and never dared to dream about until Castiel came into the picture. A family he fought he would lose given his sacrifices and choices, but now was given a second chance.

If anyone asks Dean, this is true freedom.

This is bliss.

This is peace.

This is pure definition of happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, what do you think?
> 
> Their daughter Alex, is inspired by the "real" Alex in Supernatural. I know a lot of people put Claire as Cas' daughter, and the other day I was watching an episode with Alex and boy oh boy, I saw her perfectly as their daughter, so there we have it.
> 
> I don't know about you guys, but I'd die to have Dean selling me jams and pies at a Farmer's Market, I don't know how my brain came up to this, but I'm no complaining. I hope you guys liked it.
> 
> I won't promise this is the official end for this story, but I won't promise more chapters/timestamps either. If it happens, then it happens - I advise you to subscribe to the story or to me so you get a notification if any update happens. I do have some extra ideas for other fics with Destiel (hint hint, so far, an envious prince!Dean/engaged prince!Cas; and an artist!Cas/musician!Dean, that may have some two person love triangle if I get to make things work), I just hope my brain works and allows me to write them down lol.
> 
> Thank you so very much for all the kudos and comments! It makes me incredibly happy to know you guys liked this as much as I did, and I hope to see you guys on my other works!
> 
> All the love, blue 💙


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